Tangled Lies
by Teague1
Summary: Season 2 AU. Chapter 13... past deception is revealed... Vaughn has family issues...
1. Living Angels

****

Tangled Lies

by Tayce Skye

* * *

Rating: PG-ish. For one or two slightly offensive words.

Spoilers: All of Season 1 and maybe the first episode of Season 2 (based on info from spoiler sites).

Summary: Post ATY. Will go AU after Season 2 starts. My version of what might happen in (and after) Taipei.

Pairings: Katrina/David and some Sydney/Vaughn.

Distribution: Sure, but don't forget to email me first at teague1350@hotmail.com. I'd also appreciate a link.

Disclaimer: I own this story along with Katrina Hunt. _Alias_ is not mine. It belongs to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, etc. No copyright infringement was intended.

* * * * *

"Mom?" Sydney Bristow's jaw dropped and her eyes widened. The woman she had been seeking for over twenty years was standing about six feet in front of her.

"Hello, my darling," Irina Derevko said in a thick, Russian accent. "I've been waiting almost thirty years for this moment. Now we can truly be together, mother and child."

"Together?" she asked weakly. Suddenly, Sydney slumped over.

"Yes, daughter. Soon enough." With that, Irina left the room.

* * *

**__**

Sydney:

You're not the only one who's been waiting for this moment, Mom. Ever since you left us, I've been waiting. 

I used to think you were an angel. Watching over me. Now I know the truth.

Thing is, when you walked into the room I was filled with horror and rage and disgust. The things you've done, the people you've killed. The lives you've destroyed. My life and Dad's.

But I was also filled with hope. That you maybe were still Laura Bristow, a devoted mother and wife who loved literature. That maybe, just maybe, you weren't the deceitful woman who'd betrayed our great country. Maybe you still loved us, loved **me**. 

And now I know the truth.

* * *

**__**

Irina:

Oh, my dear Sydney. You are your father's daughter. And I care about you. I want us to be together. Like a family.

But Jack has poisoned your mind. I used to admire that man, I used to respect him. Now all I see is a weakling. Hiding his feelings when in reality, they control him. Don't turn out like your father, Sydney.

Darling, how I love your passion! I just wish you could learn to wield it, to use it for things of importance.

I could teach you. Join me, Sydney. Let us be a family. Let us fulfill Milo Rambaldi's prophecy together, Mount Subasio be damned.

* * *

Michael Vaughn gasped for breath. He had been swimming urgently for the last twenty or thirty minutes and had finally managed to pull himself out of the water. 

__

I have to find Syd, I have to find--

A dark figure towered over the CIA agent. His world went black.

* * *

"What's the status of our Ms. Bristow?" Mr. Sark asked. The question was directed at a petite, dark-haired young woman. She was curled up in a chair reading "War and Peace". Security monitors surrounded her. 

"Knocked out, thanks to the elephant-sized tranq we gave her," the girl replied in an American accent, not looking up from her novel. 

"Katrina, do pay attention. How is Mr. Vaughn?"

"Same. Alexander's gonna scare him a bit, after he wakes up." She put the book down. "David, did you tell him to take it easy on Michael?"

"Why don't you? Old Alex likes you better anyhow," he said with a miniscule hint of bitterness in his voice.

"Jealous are we?" Katrina smiled mischievously. 

"Howastute. I don't submit to useless emotions. Besides, _you're_ the insecure seventeen-year-old, remember?" David teased, leaning down to wrap his arms around her.

"Mmmm. That's not you said last night." She turned around, looking into his soft, blue eyes. They started to lean into each other, ready to kiss, when Irina barged in. 

"The Man" looked disgusted. "Such insolence! I don't know why I put up with you two," she sneered.

Katrina clenched her jaw. "Maybe because we're only the best in the business?" Her retort caused David to smirk slightly, but he quickly became somber when Irina glared at him. She raised her hand and the teen prepared herself for the blow.

It was swift and unexpected, as usual. Her employer's slap left a crimson mark on Katrina's cheek that stung unmercifully. The girl kept her face impassive although she was flaming inside.

"I expected professional behavior, Miss Hunt. And Mr. Sark, you disappoint me. I really don't know what possessed you. Remember, _everybody_ is expendable." Irina's mahogany eyes flashed with anger.

"My apologies, Ms. Derevko. I promise you, this will never happen again," David offered calmly. His partner-in-crime didn't look at all sorry. Luckily, she remained silent. 

"Now, my youthful operatives, let us continue our mission. Katrina, what did Alexander do with the damp young man we found in room 47?"

"Michael Vaughn? Well, Mr. Khasinau is probably interviewing him as we speak." She pointed to the monitor that was supposed to show a slightly less drippy Vaughn tied to a chair. Except, he was gone. 

* * *

__

What took place...

"Syd! Wake up!"

"Vaughn?" Sydney wondered drowsily. She opened her eyes to see... 

Dixon? 

"Are you okay?" It was her SD-6 partner.

"Dixon! What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"I followed you to Taipei. We have to hurry, Khasinau will be coming back soon."

"I'm so happy you didn't trust me!" she exclaimed, a bit deliriously, after being freed from the chair. And then it hit her. 

"Vaughn. Oh no, Vaughn!" Tears began to stream down Sydney's face as she remembered the man behind the glass.

"Who's he? Is that the guy that's being held at the end of the hall? The really wet one?" 

"He's alive? Dixon, we have to save him! Vaughn's... a really good friend of mine." He nodded sympathetically. Together, they raced to help him.

* * *

Michael dreamed.

He dreamed about the water. 

About the door that closed a second too early. 

About the angel with blue hair. The sweet angel who tried desperately to save him. The weeping angel that kept shouting, "_Vaughn! Vaughn! Vaughn!_"

"Vaughn!" 

The dreamer woke up and found that the angel's arms were wrapped around him. 

She pulled away slowly. He saw beauty, even though her nose was running and her makeup was smeared. It was Sydney. His angel with blue hair.

"Am I dead?"

* * * * *

Author's Note: What's going on with Jack and Will? Whose side is Dixon on? What are Irina and Company going to do next? Find out in the next chapter!

I'm new at this Fan Fiction thing. Long time reader, first time writer. I'd appreciate all the help I can get. (For example, can someone tell me what a beta reader is?) Please review and don't hold back. Comments, suggestions, speculation, constructive criticism... I'll take what I can get.


	2. A Good Guy

****

Tangled Lies

by Tayce Skye

* * *

Rating: PG-ish.

Spoilers: All of Season 1 and maybe the first episode of Season 2 (based on unverified info from spoiler sites).

Summary: Post ATY. Will go AU after Season 2 starts. My version of what might happen in (and after) Taipei. Last time on "Tangled Lies"... Dixon comes to the rescue. Sydney and Vaughn escape. We meet Mr. Sark's girlfriend, Katrina Hunt.

Pairings: David/Katrina and a little bit of Sydney/Vaughn.

Distribution: Sure, but don't forget to email me first at teague1350@hotmail.com. I'd also appreciate a link.

Disclaimer: I own this story along with Katrina Hunt. _Alias_ is not mine. It belongs to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, etc. No copyright infringement was intended.

Also, one of Vaughn's lines was taken from a Michael Vartan quote. He belongs to himself, obviously.

* * * * *

Jack was worried. He and Will Tippin were at the hanger. Waiting.

After putting up with the reporter for at least an hour, Jack was approaching insanity. Where were Sydney and Vaughn?

"What happened to Syd?" Will asked. Or mumbled, really. Question number 128. Jack sighed.

"She's coming. Go to back to sleep, you look like hell," he said distractedly, hoping it would satisfy Mr. Tippin's curiosity. 

"How do I explain my, uh, appearance?"

"If anybody asks, say you were mugged while going to the pharmacy. Tell the people at work--"

"Work. Oh crap! My article!" Will remembered all of a sudden. He told Jack about the story. 

"You did _what_? This could blow Sydney's cover! Do you know what that means?" 

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't know--"

"Okay, okay. I'll think of something. Forget about saying you were sick and got mugged. Just--just let _me_ handle this. Don't tell anybody _anything _unless I tell you to."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack spotted Sydney, Vaughn, and... Dixon? _What the hell was he doing here?_ They were coming towards the plane. Sydney broke into a run.

"Will!"

* * *

"Like mother, like daughter, eh?" Khasinau had an amused look on his face.

"Too bad she left, we were just getting started. At least we know she is capable. Besides, we were lucky to have obtained her for _that _long," Irina sighed. She turned to the ex-KGB agent.

"I know Miss Hunt had a hand in this, Alexander. She has a connection to that Michael Vaughn. The girl's very _presence_ is affecting Mr. Sark's performance. Why--"

"So it is Katrina's fault that David was captured in Denpassar?"

"You are too attached to the girl."

"And you are too attached to the boy. Let us not forget your feelings for your daughter, Irina. You must face the facts. She will never join our organization willfully."

"We will get to her, eventually. But first we shall take care of another problem. And I hate to remind you, Alexander, but _I_ am the leader of this organization. Let us not forget _that_."

* * *

"You've gone too far this time, Katrina. Letting her daughter escape? When she finds out, we'll be--"

"Stop it! I hate it when you pull this self-preservation crap. Yeah, I helped Sydney get away. It'll buy her and Michael some time. And who cares what Irina does to us? It can't be any worse than what we've already gone through," she pointed out. 

"That's the problem. I've already risked enough for you. You're not dragging me into this little battle against our employer. I'd actually like to survive this partnership."

Katrina rolled her eyes. "Oh, real manly David. Run away! Scared, are you?"

"You know that's not the point. I won't get aggravated over this issue. It's really quite simple, wrath of Irina: not healthy for anyone involved. Use. Your. Brain."

"And now you're insulting my intelligence. What a charmer." She turned away. He grabbed her arm roughly and shoved her into the bedroom.

* * *

"Syd! Your hair's blue!" 

"Oh, Will, what happened?" Sydney's eyes filled with tears at the sight of her battered friend.

"I had some dental work done."

"Oh no. Not you too! I'm so sorry, Will. You didn't deserve this. I'm so sorry for getting you involved," she sobbed.

"I'll be okay. Don't worry. I'm alive, right? Thanks to you, I'm still kicking. Literally." She managed a small, pained smile. He looked around.

"Syd, why is Dixon here? And who's the other guy?"

* * *

"Dixon, I'm don't know how you got here, but I want to thank you. For saving my daughter's life." 

"Jack, I don't even know what's going on. What's wrong with Will?"

"I know you've been suspicious of Sydney lately and I assure you, we are not working against the United States. Will Tippin got in over his head and we were forced to trade intel in order to save him. Surely you understand that Syd would do _anything_ for her friends?"

"Yes. I get that. But who is this Vaughn? And what kind of trouble could Will get in that involves Khasinau?"

"Will found out about SD-6 while looking into Daniel Hecht's death. Khasinau kidnapped him to get to Sydney. As for Vaughn, he's just another friend of hers who accidentally got involved. Now, I'm going to ask you not to mention _any_ of this to SD-6 or else all our efforts will have been for nothing. If Sloane finds out about our recent activities, Mr. Tippin will be silenced _permanently_."

Dixon swallowed hard. He seemed to accept Jack's explanation. "Alright. For Sydney and Will."

* * *

"Is that that coworker of yours? The one from Christmas?" he asked. Will was terrified of her answer. And he was right.

Sydney blushed. She didn't respond, but that was all he needed. After quickly glancing at the man in question, who was pretending to read a safety pamphlet, Will found the courage to continue.

"Is he nice? I mean, is he a good guy?"

"One of the best I know," Sydney replied. His heart broke.

__

She deserves the best, he thought, mentally chastising himself._ Syd deserves to be in love._ And although Will loved her, he knew that Vaughn was the one who made her happy.

* * *

He was trying his hardest to not eavesdrop on Sydney and Will's conversation. When her voice broke into his thoughts, Michael almost fell out of his seat.

"Oh! I'm sorry, did I startle you?" He found himself staring into those big, chocolate eyes.

"No, uh, I'm just tired. How are you holding up?"

"Okay, I guess, considering our situation. But I'm much more concerned about you. I thought you were dead," she whispered. Michael saw the moisture that threatened to smudge what was left of her makeup.

"You don't need to worry about me. I have a very powerful breaststroke. The important thing is we all got back in one piece, more or less. And we're gonna get Khasinau--"

"You don't know, do you?" 

"Know what?" Michael asked.

"Alexander Khasinau is not 'The Man'. My mom is."

* * * * *

Author's Note: What is the solution to Will's article problem? What will be the reaction to Syd's discovery? And how does heroin relate to anything? Find out in the next chapter!

Please review and don't hold back. Questions, comments, suggestions, speculation, constructive criticism... I'll take what I can get. A gigantic "thank you" goes out to everybody who responded! And don't worry Harriet, Sark isn't going anywhere yet.

Need beta reader. Will travel. Or at least be eternally grateful. Please? Email me.


	3. Attachments

****

Tangled Lies

by Tayce Skye

* * *

Rating: PG-13. Sex, drugs, and language. So basically, your standard stuff.

Spoilers: All of Season 1 and maybe the first episode of Season 2 (based on unverified info from spoiler sites).

Summary: Post ATY. Will be AU after Season 2 starts. My version of what might happen in (and after) Taipei. Last time on "Tangled Lies"... Irina Derevko and Alexander Khasinau argue. Katrina Hunt and David Sark argue. Dixon takes an oath of secrecy. There's a nice little reunion for Sydney, who just revealed the true identity of "The Man".

Pairings: David/Katrina and a speck of Sydney/Vaughn.

Distribution: Sure, but don't forget to email me first at teague1350@hotmail.com. I'd also appreciate a link.

Disclaimer: I own this story along with Katrina Hunt. _Alias_ is not mine. It belongs to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, etc. No copyright infringement was intended.

* * * * *

"What?" The unexpected outcry caused both Sydney and Vaughn to turn around. A shaken Jack Bristow was standing behind them.

"Dad! I'm so sorry, I was--"

Her father had already tuned out. Laura--no, Irina--was "The Man". His ex-wife. The mother of his child. It couldn't be. But it was.

Jack withdrew to the lavatory. He splashed some water on his face. This was no time to have a nervous breakdown. His daughter needed him. Will needed him. The CIA needed him. He could not let his emotions get in the way.

* * *

**__**

Michael:

When I found out who my father's murderer was, I imagined all the ways I could get revenge. A million different scenarios to make Irina Derevko's life an absolute hell. 

Hatred is an ugly thing and Irina is probably the only person I really despise to this point.

No, scratch that. I hate Haladki too. Bastard.

I feel bad for Syd. Knowing that your parent is a traitor, it's something I could never imagine. And I almost feel worse for Jack. He doesn't even have anybody to confide in. It must be a lonely way to live.

* * *

When the older Bristow came back, he discovered Sydney asleep. Her head rested snugly on Michael Vaughn's shoulder.

"Mr. Vaughn, please do not reveal this information about Irina Derevko to anybody," he said in his coldly apathetic voice. "Tell Syd to do the same. I must consult with the Agency about this topic."

"No problem. And Jack?"

"What?" He sounded irritated.

"Take care of yourself. Sydney--she needs you."

"I know."

* * *

By the time Sydney, Will, Vaughn, Dixon, and Jack had all calmed down, told their tales, and gotten their stories straight, the plane was arriving in LA. They went their separate ways except for Jack and Will. The reporter was still clueless as to what Jack planned to do about the article.

"Mr. Tippin, I know you have been injected with more than your fair share of substances, but this may be the only way to minimize the damage you've caused."

"More needles?" 

The CIA officer took a deep breath. "Will, we're going to put traces of heroin into your bloodstream."

"_What_?"

* * *

**__**

David:

A light blouse is draped over the security camera, blocking its view of the dim room. The nightstand is cluttered with your average odds and ends: "War and Peace", a scented candle, two loaded guns.

Our legs lay in a tangle under the worn sheets. Katrina's hand rests on my chest, her heat radiating onto my bare skin. Needless to say, I've been forgiven. 

It seems that all of our disputes revolve around Ms. Derevko. She and Trin are not on the best of terms, obviously.

Mr. Khasinau hired me about a year ago. Katrina had already been with them for ten months. She's extremely close to Alexander, probably because they're both plagued with morals. Birds of a feather and all that.

I tend to gravitate towards Irina. She's influenced me greatly since I came under her command. That's why she was so surprised when I engaged in relations with Miss Hunt, as she so kindly refers to her. 

It started so many months ago at La Petite Rose, the dinner club Mr. Khasinau owns in Paris. Katrina had just finished her stage show, (the theme was Arabian Nights, I believe) which was meant to seduce a wealthy industrialist we were extremely interested in. The unlucky man keeled over prematurely due to his excessive consumption of alcoholic beverages. 

That evening, I met with Katrina in her dressing room. One thing led to another and we ended up copulating on the coffee table. Our employer was less than happy and thus started an exhausting war. Alexander and I try to stay out of it but that just seems to provoke them. 

Irina insists I've become soft. She thinks I've formed inappropriate emotional attachments, but Katrina and I aren't in love. Our relationship is based on physical attraction, not romance. It's not so hard to believe, right?

The hateful alarm clock has gone off. Trin's getting up, she has to catch a flight to Spain. 

* * *

Jack met with Arvin Sloane immediately after explaining himself to Devlin. 

Speaking of the CIA Director, their meeting this morning had gone fairly well, considering. Jack had been expecting to either lose his job or get demoted. He, Sydney, and Vaughn were put on probation instead. 

Devlin couldn't exactly fire them for their actions. Yes, they shared information with the enemy. But the Agency wouldn't have gotten the details if Sydney hadn't broken into SD-6's offshore lab.

Yes, they went against orders. And because of their disregard for protocol, the CIA now knew that "The Man" was Irina Derevko, not Alexander Khasinau. The Alliance was still in the dark about that particular piece of intel. 

Yes, they almost spilled the beans to Dixon. He was suspicious anyway and Jack convinced him to keep quiet.

Yes, Mr. Vaughn was emotionally attached to Ms. Bristow and vice versa. Devlin decided (with a little "help" from Sydney and Jack) that their ordeal in Taipei was punishment enough. Vaughn could continue his job as Sydney's handler.

Yes, Jack shouldn't have made the decision to execute the mole without discussing it with his superiors. However, he did save the Agency from having to terminate Haladki themselves.

Another crisis averted. Now they had to take care of Will's predicament. Devlin already approved of his solution. Sloane would be harder to please. 

* * *

"Come in."

"Hello Arvin." Jack was thankful he didn't have to explain his absence. As far as Sloane knew, he and Sydney had been vacationing in D.C.

"While you were away, a hazardous situation has arisen. I assume you've seen the newspapers? This article could destroy SD-6. The Alliance wants Tippin dead. I thought it would be better to hear from you first."

"I have an idea. It would eliminate the credibility of this story. Killing the reporter would only cause more trouble. The media would be all over it and Sydney--"

"You're right. There's been enough murder," Sloane muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing. I'll let you take care of this problem, for Sydney's sake. And don't botch it this time." Jack was dismissed, leaving the head of SD-6 alone with his thoughts.

* * *

Francie and Sydney were having breakfast in front of the TV. 

"So we should see the six o'clock showing. We haven't been to a movie in ages!"

"Yeah! That would be perfect! Is this the one with--"

"What the hell? Is that Will?" The two women stared in shock at the television screen. Their friend was being escorted out of a police station in handcuffs, surrounded by reporters.

"My name is Will Tippin and I wrote the article about SD-6 in the 'Register'. I've also been using heroin for three years."

The press went crazy. 

* * * * *

Author's Note: Heroin certainly explains Will's hair, but what will Syd think? Find out next time! 

Questions, comments, suggestions, speculation, constructive criticism... I'll take what I can get. Thanks for all the positive reviews! Your feedback is very important to me. About Katrina's age, I was nervous about making her so young but there is a reason for it. Anyway, I came up with a solution. She'll be turning eighteen in the next chapter.


	4. An Agent Down

****

Tangled Lies

by Tayce Skye

* * *

Rating: PG-ish. There's a bad word.

Spoilers: All of Season 1 and maybe the first episode of Season 2 (based on info from spoiler sites).

Summary: Post ATY. Will be AU after Season 2 starts. My version of what might happen in (and after) Taipei. Last time on "Tangled Lies"... Vaughn, Sydney, and Jack are put on probation after ignoring orders. In order to minimize the impact of his article, Will admits to using heroin. David and Katrina kiss and make-up, among other things.

Pairing: Some Vaughn/Sydney.

Distribution: Sure, but don't forget to email me first at teague1350@hotmail.com. I'd also appreciate a link.

Disclaimer: I own this story along with Katrina Hunt. _Alias_ is not mine. It belongs to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, etc. No copyright infringement was intended.

* * * * *

Sydney didn't have much time to react to Will's revelation. The phone rang, snapping her and Francie out of their incredulous thoughts.

"Hello?"

"Joey's Pizza?"

* * *

Michael Vaughn watched as Sydney paced anxiously in the warehouse.

"So when my dad said he had a solution for this whole article thing, he was planning to make Will into a drug addict?"

"Well, no. I'm really not sure. He didn't tell me anything either. I didn't even know about the heroin until you told me," Michael explained. He was actually slightly amused by the situation but tried to banish the thought. Syd needed him to be comforting.

She looked puzzled. "So why did you call me in?"

"We've received news that someone who works for Khasinau is breaking into Spanish millionaire Phillip Santino's apartment in Barcelona. He supposedly owns a Rambaldi artifact." Michael hesitated, unsure of what her response would be.

"We think your mother will be there."

* * *

Eric Weiss poked his head into Michael's office.

"Hey."

"I'm busy, Eric."

"Mike, listen. I am _so_ sorry about ratting you out. I didn't know that Haladki was the mole or else--"

"You don't have to apologize. Now could you please leave? I have paperwork."

"Uh, there's something else."

"Yeah?"

"Devlin told me to keep an eye on you and Bristow. To report any inappropriate behavior to him."

"Huh."

"Just thought you should know," Eric said dejectedly.

* * *

It was twilight in Barcelona. Sydney was in Phillip Santino's empty living room, waiting patiently. 

This mission was relatively simple. The other agents would be hidden in various locations. If anyone spotted the trespasser, Syd's job would be to keep him (or her) busy until backup arrived. Then Vaughn would take him (or her) into custody. The Rambaldi artifact had already been taken in for analysis.

Sydney adjusted her earpiece.

"Anything yet?" she asked.

"Nope." There was a pause. "So, there are lots of great restaurants in Spain." The comment resulted in a quiet giggle from the other end. Suddenly, static filled Michael's ear.

"Syd? Sydney?" He fumbled for his radio. "Move in!" Michael Vaughn started towards the apartment. Weiss was ahead of him. A gunshot cut through the crisp night air and his partner dropped to the ground. 

"We have an agent down! I repeat, we have an agent down! There is an unidentified sniper in the area," Michael yelled. He knelt down next to Eric. Blood was hemorrhaging from the wound on his neck. 

Taking off his shirt, Michael tried to slow the bleeding. "It's gonna be okay, buddy. Hang on." Eric's eyelids began to droop. "Stay with me. You gotta stay--"

The medics pushed the handler out of the way. He watched helplessly for another second before other agents called him away to aid Sydney.

* * *

Jack sat by his daughter's hospital bed. She was regaining consciousness.

"Daddy?"

"How do you feel?" Sydney saw the concern on his face. She tried to smile.

"Not that bad. How long was I out?"

"Too long." The door opened and Vaughn walked in carrying two cups of coffee. He handed one to Jack.

"Syd! What happened? Are you okay?" Her handler's forehead furrowed worriedly.

"I'm fine. Well, a little bruised," she admitted after receiving skeptical looks from both men. "I just didn't hear her sneak up on me. She completely kicked my ass."

"Was it Irina?" Sydney noticed that Vaughn's knuckles were white. She shook her head.

"No, my mom--I mean, _Irina_ is much taller. Whoever it was knew my name. It was kinda creepy."

"Well, I'm glad you're--" Vaughn was interrupted by his beeper. "I gotta go, it's Weiss! I'll see you soon, Sydney." Without thinking, he kissed her on the cheek and ran out of the room, leaving both Bristows stunned.

* * *

"Mike?" He was still a little groggy.

"Eric! You look horrible."

"Thank you, Mister Sensitive."

"Sorry, it's just--What I'm try to say is that I shouldn't have acted like such a jackass when you were apologizing earlier."

"Aww, you're just saying that because I lost about eight gallons of blood," Eric said sarcastically.

"Seriously, man. I'm really sorry." Michael looked so miserable.

"No, it was my fault to begin with. All that 'trust is a tricky thing' crap. I should have just kept my mouth shut."

"It was your job to report me. And I don't blame you."

"Thanks, but I don't blame you either. Why don't we just stop arguing and just go back to being friends?"

"Deal." They exchanged grins. Despite the injury, Eric still had that prankish glint in his eyes.

"And Michael, about Taipei. Balls of steel, man! Balls of steel!"

* * *

"Hello, Miss Hunt. How are you doing today?" Irina had been acting uncharacteristically kind lately even though the Rambaldi artifact had not been recovered.

"Fine," Katrina said suspiciously.

"I would like to present a proposition to you." 

"And what's that?"

"As you know, our mole inside the Central Intelligence Agency has been compromised and--"

"You want me to replace him. I know I have a connection to Michael Vaughn, but isn't that assignment a bit... trivial for me?"

"You will carry out your regular duties in addition to infiltrating the CIA. In return, I will let you out of our contract together early." Irina's eyes sparkled dangerously.

"I'm guessing I don't actually have a choice here."

"Precisely."

* * * * *

Author's Note: Who knocked Sydney out in Barcelona? What does Jack have to say about the little peck on the cheek Vaughn gave to his daughter? Find out in the next chapter!

Okay, I lied. Katrina won't be turning eighteen any time soon. I've gotten mixed reactions about her age, but the story will be simpler if she stays seventeen. Sorry if this offends anybody. Keep in mind that David Anders (the actor who plays Sark) is only 21 in real life, so Sark isn't that much older than Katrina.

Questions, comments, suggestions, speculation, constructive criticism... I'll take what I can get. Thanks to anyone who responded. I appreciate your feedback.


	5. Pylon Promises

****

Tangled Lies

by Tayce Skye

* * *

Rating: PG-13. Because I want it to be.

Spoilers: All of Season 1 and maybe the first episode or two of Season 2 (based on info from spoiler sites).

Summary: Post ATY. Will be AU after Season 2 starts. My version of what might happen in (and after) Taipei. Last time on "Tangled Lies"... There is a CIA mission in Barcelona. Sydney gets knocked out, Weiss gets shot in the neck. He survives and his friendship with Vaughn gets patched up. Katrina gets a new assignment that somehow involves Vaughn.

Pairings: Sark/Katrina. Some Sydney/Vaughn.

Distribution: Sure, but don't forget to email me first at teague1350@hotmail.com. I'd also appreciate a link.

Disclaimer: I own this story along with Katrina Hunt. _Alias_ is not mine. It belongs to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, etc. No copyright infringement was intended.

* * * * *

**__**

Michael:

Jack is gonna slaughter me. 

I kissed Sydney in front of him. I am a dead man. 

But, to tell the truth, it was completely worth it. And it wasn't even on the lips.

How am I going to look her in the eye without turning red? What if she mentions it? What if she doesn't? Should I bring it up? What do I do?

I'm totally screwed. And it was completely worth it.

* * *

**__**

Katrina:

I dragged him into an empty room. He protests, saying something about that thousand-dollar suit he's wearing. David acts so spoiled sometimes.

I tell him that I have a new task. This surprises him, I guess. Our unspoken rule is that we don't discuss our assignments until they're completed. But this one's long-term.

He doesn't say anything (it drives me crazy), just raises his eyebrows. We both know what it means. Months without seeing each other.

David's doing it again. Gazing deep into--no, through--my eyes. Like he can see into my soul or something equally cliched. It makes me melt and he knows it. I could drown in those clear, blue pools. 

Fortunately, I don't have to. My cell phone vibrates. Duty calls, literally. It's Alexander.

After I hang up, David steps nearer. His lips are close... and so enticing. I lean in.

Apparently, that wasn't what he had in mind. He breathes softly in my ear.

"Room 32 in 60 minutes. I'll be waiting."

* * *

"Ms. Bristow, how was your visit to the Capital?" She had just been released from the hospital and was in yet another meeting, preparing for yet another "business" trip.

Sydney gave her boss a saccharine smile. "Oh, it was wonderful! I had the best time," she gushed. Dixon gave her a sideways glance while holding back a smirk.

"Yesterday morning, a Rambaldi artifact was taken from Phillip Santino's apartment in Barcelona. SD-6 believes a woman called 'The Cat' stole it. Apparently, she is closely associated with Alexander Khasinau and may be romantically involved with Mr. Sark. 

"We don't have any information regarding her name or physical appearance so it will be up to you to find out. She is expected to show up at a New York City gallery opening in four days, where a Rambaldi sketch is on display." 

Sydney raised an eyebrow at Jack, who appears to be more stony than usual. Marshall stands up and starts to stutter about matadors, eventually explaining how to operate the purse/video camera. As the agents were dismissed, Sloane motioned for Sydney to join him in his office.

"Is something the matter?" she asked. He looked like a ghost.

"Sydney, I don't know how to say this. Last week, Emily--There was a complication."

"Oh no! But she's okay?"

His face twisted in anguish. "I'm afraid not. I tried to reach you but--Sydney, Emily's gone."

"No. No! She can't--How?" Her tears spilled onto Sloane's suit as he embraced her. She didn't resist. 

* * *

In the warehouse, Vaughn pulled Sydney into a similar hug as she wept quietly.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"Vaughn, it's horrible. Emily's funeral--I missed it. I wasn't there for her."

"It's not your fault, Syd. There was nothing you could do. You don't know what happened."

She suddenly withdrew from his arms. "Oh! I didn't even think to ask. Do you think Sloane did something?"

"I... couldn't be sure. He might have had a hand in this. You said she knew--"

"That monster. How could he kill his _wife_?" Anger mixed with the stormy sorrow in her eyes. 

"I don't know," Vaughn said sadly. "It's just another reason why we have to bring him down. And don't worry, Sydney, we will. I promise."

* * *

**__**

Will:

Guess what? Not only do I get the pleasure of being the laughingstock of the news world, I'm spending my "free" time making America beautiful.

That's right. Will Tippin, dressed as a walking pylon, is coming to a freeway near you. It's for the hundred hours of community service I have to do. I was convicted of felony possession so I'm on probation and I have to go to Narcotics Anonymous. I'm not even an addict!

Francie visited me today. She got all blubbery. Asking me why I didn't go to her for help before my "substance abuse problem" got out of hand. It was so heart wrenching, especially because I had to lie to her. Then she cussed me out for being an idiot.

Sydney hasn't come by yet. Another business meeting, says Jack. That's when I realized that the girl I've been infatuated with since... forever, is someone I hardly know. But it's all going to change. Even if she is madly in love with some secret agent dude, I'm gonna be the best damn friend she has. 

Maybe, someday, she'll love me back. Maybe--Damn it! I did it again. I have to stop thinking about her like that.

This whole thing started because I wanted answers. It's almost ironic because right now, I'm more confused than ever. 

* * *

When Michael got back to his office, Jack Bristow was waiting.

"Hello, Agent Vaughn. I'm here to talk about my daughter."

Michael gulped. "Yeah, about Sydney. Um, I'm really sorry about that... uh, incident at the hospital. It was--"

"I don't have time for this," he interrupted. "What I wanted to verify was whether or not she knows about Sloane's wife."

"She knows that Emily passed away."

"Did he tell her how?"

"No, but we--I mean, _Sydney_ suspects that Sloane had something to do with it. Why?"

"He didn't give me any details about her death. The Agency isn't sure what happened. It's possible she was murdered."

"So that's even more ammunition against Sloane when we take SD-6 down."

"Exactly." Jack turned to leave. 

"Oh and by the way, Mr. Vaughn. If you ever so much as _touch_ Sydney in a manner that could be interpreted as something other than just being friendly, I _will_ hurt you. Are we clear?"

"Uh, yes sir."

"Good. Have a nice day."

* * *

Five manicured nails tap on a glass table. Irina is holding a cellular phone to her ear. 

"Alright, I suppose this will have to do. Tell Miss Hunt that if something like this occurs in the future, the consequences will be much more severe." She snapped the phone shut.

Irina looks around the office until her intense brown eyes settle on a picture frame. She touches the glass lovingly.

"Forgive me, Sydney. I only want what is best for you. I promise."

* * * * *

Author's Note: Next up, Will and Francie get story lines. Katrina's relationship with Vaughn is revealed. Also, Sydney comes face to face with 'The Cat'. It's not who you're expecting, unless you expected...

Questions, comments, suggestions, speculation, constructive criticism... I'll take what I can get. I really appreciate all the feedback! It gives me those nice, warm fuzzies...

I am forever indebted to my fabulous beta reader, Shelly, who came up with the name of this chapter. About that dental plan...


	6. Hallmark Families

****

Tangled Lies

by Tayce Skye

* * *

Rating: PG, just to be safe. There's nothing really bad.

Spoilers: All of Season 1 and maybe the first episode or two of Season 2 (based on info from spoiler sites).

Summary: Post ATY. Will be AU after Season 2 starts. My version of what might happen in (and after) Taipei. Last time on "Tangled Lies"... Sydney finds out that Emily is dead. Jack threatens Vaughn. Will is on probation. The next operation is in NYC. SD-6 is after a woman known as 'The Cat'.

Pairings: None whatsoever in this chapter.

Distribution: Sure, but don't forget to email me first at teague1350@hotmail.com. I'd also appreciate a link.

Disclaimer: I own this story along with Katrina Hunt, Lillian Li, and Matthieu Delorme. _Alias_ is not mine. It belongs to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, etc. None of the classical films mentioned belong to me either. I can't take credit for the book 'To Kill a Mockingbird' either. No copyright infringement was intended.

* * * * *

"I don't know, Jack."

"If she is acquainted with Vaughn, he should at least meet her."

"After what happened in Taipei, I'm against involving him with anybody. The man is clearly unstable. Besides, this girl may be part of some crime organization."

"Then she can also help us, but first we have to give her what she wants," Jack reasoned. After a bit more persuasion, Devlin agreed.

* * *

When Michael was called into Devlin's office, he wasn't sure what to expect_. Did the Agency know about "The Kiss"? Had Jack revealed the secret? Would he be forced to resign as Sydney's handler?_

Clearing his throat, Devlin interrupted Michael's thoughts. "Agent Vaughn, we have a young woman in the interrogation room who claims to know you. She somehow bypassed security and showed up in my office. Would you like to meet her?"

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Sure."

A few minutes later, Michael sat across from a petite teenage girl with vaguely Asian features. She seemed familiar.

"Do I know you? You look like..." He trailed off. The teen smiled and leaned into the table.

"Like your Uncle Matt?" she asked. 

That's when it hit him. The color of her eyes... exactly like his uncle's.

* * *

**__**

Michael:

After Dad died, my mom needed help raising me. Enter her little brother, Matthieu. He flew in from France and I latched onto him immediately.

Uncle Matt was my surrogate father but acted more like a best friend. He never tried to take Dad's place but managed to fill some of the void. My mother and I would have never survived if he hadn't come to us.

During my first year of high school, Uncle Matt went back to Europe to visit his parents. We haven't seen him since. 

It was like losing my dad all over again. Don't get me wrong, Mom was fantastic as a single parent, but our lives just weren't the same. 

Now, sitting in front of me, is the key to my uncle's disappearance. His daughter.

* * *

She claimed to be Katrina Hunt, daughter of Matthieu Delorme. Apparently, he became involved with a woman named Lillian Li during his stay in the States. After returning from France, Matthieu visited his fiancée in San Francisco. 

He never got a chance to tell anyone about his wife-to-be. They were both killed in an auto accident soon after Katrina was born. She spent her childhood in various foster homes before finally tracking down the elusive Agent Vaughn.

Michael waited impatiently as they took her in for tests, both medical and psychological, that would prove her story. When Katrina returned, his decision was announced.

He wanted to be her legal guardian, insisting that that's what Matt would have wanted.

Devlin and Jack discussed this recent turn of events. In the eyes of the law, there was nothing the Agency could do to stop him.

"She passed the polygraph and the blood test. This girl shouldn't pose a threat to the CIA."

"Jack, we both know better than to underestimate our enemies."

"Exactly. Why not take this opportunity to carefully observe Miss Hunt? We may be able to find out who her employer is. This is much more useful to us than taking her into custody," he argued.

"Yes, you're right. The Hunt situation could be a great opportunity. I'm putting you in charge of this. Don't botch it," Devlin warned.

* * *

They sit quietly in his car. She watches as a man in an orange jumpsuit picking up garbage on the side of the road.

An angsty singer is screaming at them through the radio. Michael turns it off.

Katrina's clear, melodious laugh suddenly breaks the silence. He's confused at first but eventually joins in. The unlikely duo arrives mirthfully at their destination.

* * *

Will sneezes as a black automobile zooms past him. He wipes the sweat off his brow and squints in the sun. There's a gas station nearby. Maybe he could get some water there. Then Will notices a familiar vehicle. 

Francie gets out of her car. She appears to be in an animated argument with a white-haired stranger. This sparks Will's curiosity and he tries to get closer.

__

BEEEEEP! 

A red pickup narrowly misses him and he jumps back. This causes him to fall flat on his butt. 

"Ow!" 

By the time Will got back on his feet, both Francie and the mysterious man with white hair had disappeared. 

* * *

**__**

Michael:

Devlin gave me the day off so I could get to know my cousin. 

First item on the agenda: shopping. The only things in my refrigerator are beer, leftovers from three days ago, and a half-gallon of milk. 

In the supermarket, I glower menacingly at any boy who comes within five feet of Katrina.

Next, we ate pizza and exchanged jokes. A supreme for her, meat lover's for me. She has a great sense of humor and eats more than I do.

The scowl radius has been changed to seven feet.

After lunch, I brought her to the video rental store. We pick out some classic movies even though we've both already seen them.

My glare is reserved for the checkout boy who tries to flirt with her.

In the afternoon, Katrina and I viewed our selections. She tears up during 'Casablanca', giggles at 'The Philadelphia Story', and we both agree that the book 'To Kill a Mockingbird' was better, though the film is good too.

Dinner is at a French restaurant. Katrina's pronunciation is perfect and she knows how to use the forks properly. Our waiter keeps giving her smarmy looks so I don't leave a tip. Take that, Pierre.

When we get home, it's late. Katrina washes up and goes to bed. I give her a kiss on the forehead before she drifts off. Her hair smells of peppermint, shampoo, and cigarettes. This reminds me that I have to give her one of those drug, alcohol, and tobacco lectures the ads are always talking about.

I looked in on her as she slept. Her face looks so peaceful and that's when I know--when I **really** know--that I made the right choice.

This feels... right. It's the closest I'll ever get to having a little sister, though I never really wanted one while I was growing up. And they say raising a teenager is so hard.

* * *

**__**

Katrina:

Everything is going according to plan and it almost makes me sick. I have to lie to my own flesh and blood. I am betraying him to his enemy. 

Today was amazing. I got a chance to be... normal. Michael is a good man. Of course, that just makes this assignment even harder.

I'm not usually into this touchy-feely crap. But as I pretended sleep and he watched me from the doorway, it felt... not at all creepy. Like this is how our lives are supposed to be. 

I sound like a Hallmark card. Maybe that's what happens when you have a real family.

* * *

"Okay Dixon, I'm in," Sydney said, making her way through a crowd of Manhattan's elite. SD-6 managed to squeeze her into another skin-tight outfit. 

She was supposed to keep an eye on the Rambaldi sketch and get 'The Cat' on tape. Then she had to call a team of agents that would take both 'The Cat' and the sketch into custody. 

For her counter-mission, Sydney was to take photos of 'The Cat' using a high tech lipstick-camera. Instead of alerting the SD-6 team, two groups of CIA officers (including a certain Agent Vaughn) would signaled.

Tugging idly at her short skirt, she was feeling restless. Maybe Khasinau changed his mind and decided to steal from some other art gallery. 

A well-dressed woman began walking towards the display. For the second time in less than three weeks, Sydney could only utter one word.

"Mom?"

* * * * *

Author's Note: In the next chapter, Syd faces off with Irina (again). Katrina makes a friend and Sark's timing could not be worse.

Questions, comments, suggestions, speculation, constructive criticism... I'll take what I can get. I really appreciate all the feedback! 

I am forever indebted to my fast-working beta reader, Shelly. About that dental plan...


	7. Assault and Battery

****

Tangled Lies

by Tayce Skye

* * *

Rating: PG-13 for language and... uh, "violence".

Spoilers: All of Season 1 and maybe the first episode or two of Season 2 (based on info from spoiler sites).

Summary: Post ATY. Will be AU after Season 2 starts. My version of what might happen in (and after) Taipei. Last time on "Tangled Lies"... Vaughn meets and keeps his cousin, Katrina. Will sees Francie in a heated conversation with a strange, white-haired man. 'The Cat' turns out to be... Irina?

Pairings: Tyler/Katrina kinda. Sark/Katrina kinda. Sydney/Vaughn kinda.

Distribution: Sure, but don't forget to email me first at teague1350@hotmail.com. I'd also appreciate a link.

Disclaimer: I own this story along with Katrina Hunt. _Alias_ is not mine. It belongs to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, etc. _Catcher in the Rye _isn't mine either. No copyright infringement was intended.

* * * * *

"What did you say?" Dixon asked. Unknown to him, his partner was in a state of shock, but quickly recovered.

"Oh, nothing." She tried to sound nonchalant as Irina Derevko walked slowly towards the Rambaldi display. 

Sydney took off the earpiece and turned the purse/video camera away from her mother. Using two fingers, she discreetly gestured to Vaughn and the others. They swarmed in, suddenly and silently. 

In an instant, it was all over. Irina was finally in CIA custody and the Rambaldi sketch was safe.

* * *

As Michael handcuffed Sydney's mother, he felt a wave of nausea. Yet the moment was oddly anticlimactic, as if arresting your dad's murderer was an everyday occurrence. 

The team stealthily made their way to a black van hidden in the alleyway. One of his colleagues, Agent Wilcox, congratulated Michael with a friendly pat on the back. 

He should have been surprised or angry or joyful at the capture of 'The Man'. Instead, his mind was numb. No feelings or thoughts at all. What the hell was wrong with him?

* * *

Katrina slouched on the sofa, staring blankly at the television screen. A corny soap opera was on. Her left hand stroked Donovan's short fur while the right one was half buried in a bowl of popcorn.

She had already planted the bugs, snooped through the drawers, and recorded Michael's schedule. Now, there was nothing to do except sit back and relax. Of course, Katrina wasn't exactly sure what "normal" people did in their free time.

Daytime TV was obviously rotting her brain. She really needed to get out. Maybe Donovan wanted to go for a walk. The bulldog looked lazily back at her. _Nah._

The teen hadn't changed yet, still sporting an oversized white shirt with plaid pajama bottoms. Grabbing another donut, eighth one today, she threw on some clothes and emerged from her bedroom with low cut jeans and a gray tank top. Time to spend some money. 

After losing the agents tailing her, Katrina hot-wired a car (belonging to Old Lady Worthington of B-14, Queen of Felines) and drove to a quaint little used-book store. She had cash to squander. Forty million dollars (in offshore accounts), to be exact. No one, not even Irina, knew about her funds so she had to be very careful with her spending.

* * *

Tyler Blumberg read through _Catcher in the Rye_ for the fourth time this year. A really pissed-off girl interrupted him. An extremely attractive, really pissed-off girl.

"Excuse me, I've been waiting for about half a decade already. Would you like to assist me anytime soon? Or are you just going to sit there and gawk?" she asked. Tyler mentally thanked his Uncle Eric for teaching him the art of once-overs as he took in all five-foot-three of her. 

She had dark, almost black hair. It was pulled into a loose, spiky bun at the nape of her neck. A few wispy strands looped around her ears, threatening to escape. 

The girl was thin, but had curves in all the right places. Her skin was golden, though not from laying out in the sun. She had large, almond-shaped eyes that were a dazzling green. Or was it silvery gray? Wait...

"Will you snap out of it? All I want is a simple little book."

His brain suddenly clicked on. "Hi. I'm Tyler. How can I help you?" _Real smooth, dumb-ass._

"Were you not listening to the rest of my rant? Book. Me. Want."

"Oh, sorry about that. Guess I'm kinda out of it today. Listen, I'm free in about ten minutes. Could I buy you a sundae?" Her face softened at the mention of free deserts.

"Definitely!"

* * *

Sloane waited for her explanation.

"I'm really sorry. She came from nowhere, yanked out my earpiece, and broke the video camera." Sydney held up the demolished purse with wires sticking out haphazardly. In reality, a pair of black pumps caused the destruction. 

"Whoever it was knocked me out and, by the time I came to, got away with the sketch. Again, I'm really sorry," she lied.

The head of SD-6 sighed. "Did you see any distinguishing physical features?"

"No. It all happened so fast." Sydney gingerly touched an angry-looking bruise on her forehead. It wasn't real, of course. Just makeup. Sloane seemed convinced and dismissed her and Dixon, who looked guilt-wracked.

"Syd, I'm sorry. I should have been there," he said. An uncomfortable feeling began building up in her stomach.

"Don' t worry about it. There was nothing anyone could have done. Even I was surprised." At least the last part wasn't a lie.

* * *

A black SUV was parked across the street from an ice cream shop. David Sark adjusted the mirror. He had come to Los Angeles to tell Katrina that her mission was over. That their employer was MIA and they could finally do what they've always wanted. 

Instead he was watching her as she talked excitedly with another man.

The man leaned over and caught Katrina's lips in a kiss. David looked away immediately, feeling ill. He drove off without another glance back, just missing the scene his lover was making. 

* * *

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" she yelled as Tyler lay sprawled on the ground. He was holding his bloody nose, dumfounded.

"You _punched_ me!"

"Nice deduction skills, Sherlock. Now would you like to explain what your tongue was doing in my mouth?" Katrina's nostrils flared as she looked down at him with repulsion.

"Christ! I'm sorry! I didn't know you were going to sock me in the nose!" He got up. "I swear, I thought you wanted me to. Weren't you, ya know, flirting with me?"

"In your dreams, Book Boy." Tyler winced. "Oh jeez, that was a bit too harsh, huh? Look, maybe I overreacted. It's just, I'm involved with someone else. Now would you stop acting like a six-year-old girl and suck it up? It's not bleeding that badly!"

* * *

**__**

Tyler:

I am not a sex-crazed pig. Really. Sure, you could say all male college students are Neanderthals and, yeah, majority of the time it's true. But I'm a genuinely nice guy. It's just this crazy girl who's making my head spin.

My type is not... her. It's the opposite of... her. The last eight girlfriends I've had were:

1) Tall

2) Blonde

3) Sweet

Katrina is none of those things. She is short and sarcastic. Her hair is a dark, dark brown and looks like it has reddish streaks in the sun. Not my type at all. Hell, she's a nightmare! Blunt, unavailable, and suffers from a bad case of permanent PMS. 

So why am I falling for her? And since when do I pay that much attention to someone's hair color?

* * *

Vaughn shifted on his crate. "Devlin doesn't even want us to talk to Irina. The problem is, the CIA has questions and she won't answer."

"I don't want to see her. You know why," Sydney said hoarsely.

"Yeah, I know exactly why. But the Agency is having some difficulty understanding. I can't force you to do this, but Devlin can. Syd, I really sorry."

"How do you feel about this, Vaughn? About her? I mean, the things Irina's done..." She shook her head in disgust.

"Well, I'm not exactly sure what to feel. We've got her and that's about as much as I can ask for without, uh, assault and battery charges."

"I feel like pounding her myself." Her face darkened at an abrupt realization. "Oh, god. What if they make Dad talk to her? He hasn't seen her since... the day she left us." Sydney contemplated the situation as her handler watched with concern.

"Okay. Tell Devlin I'll do it. But I'm not going to exchange pleasantries. This is for my dad and no one else."

"I--you are... an incredible person, you know that? This is _far_ beyond your call of duty. I could come... if you need me. For emotional support." Sydney's vision began to blur as he presented his offer. One tear made its way down a pale cheek.

"Thank--thank you so much, Vaughn. Thank you for everything. I couldn't make you face her, though. It wouldn't be right. I'll be okay by myself. Don't worry." She hoped those words wouldn't be her last.

* * * * *

Author's Note: Next chapter, sweet dreams... or are they?

Questions, comments, suggestions, speculation, constructive criticism... I'll take what I can get. I really appreciate all the feedback! Sweetie--I get my info from the Vartan Hos.

I am forever indebted to my fantastic beta reader, Shelly. Thank you for all your advice.

Also, a shout-out to Jannah. We finally managed to exchange emails _before_ I posted a chapter!


	8. Life Is But A Dream

****

Tangled Lies

by Tayce Skye

* * *

Rating: PG-ish.

Spoilers: All of Season 1 and maybe the first episode or two of Season 2 (based on info from spoiler sites).

Summary: Post ATY. Will be AU after Season 2 starts. My version of what might happen in (and after) Taipei. Last time on "Tangled Lies"... Irina got caught, Sydney's distraught. Vaughn is numb, Tyler acts dumb. Sark sees something bad, Katrina gets extremely mad. And this is why I don't write poems.

Pairings: Major Sydney/Vaughn. 

Distribution: Sure, but don't forget to email me first at teague1350@hotmail.com. I'd also appreciate a link.

Disclaimer: I own this story along with Katrina Hunt. _Alias_ is not mine. It belongs to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, etc. No copyright infringement was intended.

* * * * *

__

Katrina stands calmly on the sidewalk, her small hands gripping the weapon at her side. She lifts the gun and pulls the trigger three times.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Her aim is perfect and the Buick is sent into a spin. There is another movement, ignored until now. A little girl. Freckles, bare feet, huge eyes. The toddler chases a giant red ball.

"Get back! No. Stop!"

"No, stop. Stop! _No_!" She bolts up in bed. The door swings open, light floods into the room. A familiar voice breaks the silence and a gentle hand strokes her sweat-drenched hair.

"It's okay, Trin. Just a dream. It's gonna be alright," Michael says soothingly. She suddenly feels cold and wraps her arms around his neck. 

But it's not going to be okay. And it wasn't just a dream. The little girl with blonde pigtails, dressed in yellow gingham. She was real once, years ago. The first person Katrina killed. A ghost who has haunted her sleep since that fateful day in April.

* * *

Michael stepped out of the bathroom and was hit with the delectable scent of blueberry pancakes. His cousin was in the kitchen. She handed him a plate.

"Good morning, Mike. Help yourself."

"Great! Yesterday it was French toast and last night you made cream of broccoli soup. What's next?"

"Pasta, maybe? Depends on how much money you're giving me for groceries. You sleep okay last night?"

"Actually, I had some things on my mind and I wasn't even asleep when you... uh, yeah." His face turned about three shades redder.

"Sorry about that. Stupid nightmares." Katrina was refreshingly cheerful. Unbeknownst to Michael, she had gone through his briefcase while he showered and found out that Irina Derevko was incarcerated. 

Of course, the teenager wasn't sure what this meant. Would she work for Alexander instead? Nothing was certain until someone from the organization got in touch with her. Katrina smothered her breakfast in maple syrup and took a gigantic bite.

"Hey, pace yourself! When you first got here, I thought sharing a bathroom would be hard. Now, I'm worried you're gonna eat up my paycheck," Michael joked. She rolled her eyes and gestured at the clock.

"Oh! I'm gonna be late. See you later! And here's a fifty for food." He slapped a crumpled bill on the table, pressed a kiss into her temple, and raced out the door. Katrina shrugged, pocketing the money. Then she slowly finished her pancakes.

* * *

When Sydney got the call from Joey's Pizza, a strange mix of emotions ran through her. The most prominent one was dread. Not that seeing Michael Vaughn was ever a terrible thing, but she was scheduled to talk to her mother today. Meetings with Irina weren't known for their predictability.

After swapping banter with Francie and making a plausible excuse, she arrived at the warehouse. The place was comforting to Sydney, a constant in her hectic life. She sees Vaughn. 

He is slumped over. Panic invades the previously tranquil atmosphere. 

__

Not again. Please, not again. Her mind is a broken record, the same thoughts over and over. _I love you. Never got to say it. I love you. Please, don't go. Don't leave me like everyone else. I love you. Please..._

Sydney rushes over to him. He sighs. Relief washed over her. _Alive. Just sleeping. Not gone. I love you. I'm going to love you forever. Never gonna leave you. Not again._

She lifts his head up tentatively. _So beautiful. Those wrinkles on his forehead, ever present. Never realized how sexy they were. I know now. I love him. Love, love, love... _

"Sydney..." Her hand almost drops. He continues to doze. And is, apparently, dreaming about her.

"I love you, Agent Michael Vaughn. Do you love me?"

"Sydney..." Her handler smiles but is still asleep. His facial muscles twitch slightly and those adorable dimples make a surprise appearance.

She gazes at his face. _He loves me. I think he loves me._ Their mouths meet and the rest of the world melts away. 

* * *

**__**

Michael:

I've turned into an insomniac. Well, it was just one uneasy night, but still. I felt like a zombie. 

When I got to the warehouse, I realized that I forgot to stop for coffee. Bad move. My eyelids felt like bricks, so heavy. I told myself, just one minute. I'll rest them for one minute. 

And I had the most wonderful dream. There was a beautiful woman. Sydney. She came to me and said, "I love you." 

We were kissing. Soft lips that crushed eagerly against mine. She tasted sweet. Raspberries, I think. Our tongues danced, desperately searching for more. Hands, hungry to touch. Struggling for more contact. 

Silky hair, delicate skin. Moaning with desire, needing each other. Jacket, gone. Blazer, lost. Breaking apart for oxygen only to crash together once more, passions even higher. 

Bliss. 

And I woke up. There was no one. My suit was more rumpled than usual.

Tried calling her cell phone. She was in traffic. Ten minutes later, and here we are. Sitting across from each other. Sydney seems flustered. I don't know what to say. 

I wish it had been real.

* * *

**__**

Sydney:

When Vaughn started to stir, I ran. It's almost funny, I can take on three armed Russian mobsters but not the man I love.

He called me, sounding weary. I lied to him. Hate that, hate lying. Especially to Vaughn. 'Cause I love him. Love, love, love...

I did return to the warehouse, praying I didn't seem embarrassed. Don't think it worked, he kept looking at me funny.

Does he know? 

Told him he looked tired. He says, a little. Mentions that he had a great dream, though. I think I blushed, which is a definite no-no. Bad Sydney. I want bad... uh oh, did it again. Inappropriate Vaughn thoughts. That holster doesn't help matters...

This is not good. I mean, the actual kissing itself was fantastic. Tingles and turns. Spinning and sparks. Pleasure, paradise, and perfection. 

Bliss. 

However, the ramifications--not so great. For one thing, it almost went to the next, highly forbidden, level. Plus, turning bright red every time we meet doesn't help my complexion. All this has regressed me to my high school days. Blush and look away shyly. Blush and... 

And logic. What if Devlin finds out? What if Sloane finds out? What if Dad finds out? Don't know which is worse. Actually, I do. Whichever results in Dead Vaughn is the worst. He needs to be alive, with me. Or else, I'll die. 

I should feel guilty about kissing him. And I do. But I don't regret it. How can I regret it when I've been longing for this feeling since forever? When I want more?

I love him. Love, love, love...

* * *

**__**

Jack:

How in the world am I going to handle with this? I already have to deal with my wife who, by the way, is supposed to be dead. And now our only child is putting herself in danger.

At least Michael Vaughn is a man of his word. So far, Sydney's the only one who has engaged in anything. In fact, he thinks it was all a dream. 

But I know the truth. I was watching.

I was watching, as his head drooped and my daughter entered. 

I was watching, as her face contorted with horror only to relax when she discovered he was only napping. 

I was watching, as she loved him and two people joined together in an intimate moment.

Now, I watch silently as they talk. I don't know what to do.

Sydney will always be my little girl and I love her. I want her to have the fairy tale ending, complete with a knight in shining armor that rides up on a white horse. I want her to live happily ever after in a castle surrounded by clouds.

But she can't have that. This may be the only ending she'll ever get.

I don't want her to suffer, like me. If she falls in love, I can't guarantee a single thing.

That's what scares me more than anything else.

* * * * * 

Author's Note: In the next chapter, Jack confronts Sydney. Sydney interrogates Irina. Will questions Francie and talks with Syd. But our favorite characters are in the dark about several important developments.

Questions, comments, suggestions, speculation, constructive criticism... I'll take what I can get. I really appreciate feedback! It's like sugar... highly addictive and I absolutely need it!

Shelly, Shelly, where can you be? My beta reader went AWOL so this chapter was edited thanks to Jannah. I'm extremely grateful for your opinions... Baja sounds so good right about now!


	9. Nothing and Nobody

****

Tangled Lies

by Tayce Skye

* * *

Rating: PG-ish. A bad word or two.

Spoilers: All of Season 1 and maybe the first episode or two of Season 2 (based on info from spoiler sites).

Summary: Post ATY. Will be AU after Season 2 starts. My version of what might happen in (and after) Taipei. Last time on "Tangled Lies"... Katrina has a nightmare that she knows is real. Sydney and Vaughn smooch but he thinks it was a dream. Jack witnesses the whole thing.

Pairings: Tiny bits of Sydney/Vaughn. A dash of Sark/Katrina. Some Francie/Other.

Distribution: Sure, but don't forget to email me first at teague1350@hotmail.com. I'd also appreciate a link.

Disclaimer: I own this story along with Katrina Hunt. _Alias_ is not mine. It belongs to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, etc. No copyright infringement was intended.

* * * * *

Upon leaving the warehouse, Sydney didn't know whether to be relieved or nervous. She managed to face Vaughn with her dignity still intact but the meeting with Irina was in less than an hour. _Out of the frying pan and into the fire_, she thought. 

After stopping by her school to hand in some late assignments, Sydney arrived at the CIA office. She stood for a moment outside of the interrogation room, preparing herself mentally. Jack appeared in her peripheral vision.

"We need to talk." He pulled her into an empty conference room and activated a signal jammer.

"I know about you and Vaughn," her father said hurriedly. She looked aghast.

"What? How? Does anybody else--"

"No. I stopped by the warehouse to see you and--"

"Dad, you were spying on us?" Her eyes flashed dangerously.

"Sydney, don't try to turn this around on me. I know that he thinks it wasn't real. You'd better not mention it to him," Jack warned. "It's safer if he doesn't know."

His daughter let out a frustrated sigh. "Don't you think I'm aware of that? God, it's so hard just to look him in the eye." 

"You have to act like you usually do. He can't suspect a thing. How could you have done this? What if Sloane finds out? This one selfish act just put all of us in peril."

"I know! I don't want him to die, Daddy. It was a mistake and I promise that I'll never let my emotions take over ever again. Okay?" She tried to blink back the tears. Jack sighed and nodded.

* * *

Francie walked into the kitchen only to find it already occupied. "Will. What are you up to?"

"Nothing much. Met a cute girl at my twelve-step. Oh, and the community service is almost over." He looked around. "Where's Sydney? Isn't it Saturday?"

"That crazy banker's working weekends again. Is that why you're in my house?" she asked, hands on her hips.

"I wanted to catch up with my girls. So, how's life?"

"Same old, same old," she answered cheerfully. He gave her a questioning look. "What?"

"Who was that old guy you were talking to? I saw you guys at a gas station." 

"Do you mean Mr. Masclet? He owns the place I want to buy. That bastard keeps raising the price," she complained. "It's not like anybody else is interested." Will smiled. "What? Did you think I was making a deal with the devil or something? You've been watching too much television."

"Yeah, you know I can't live without my soaps," he said sarcastically. She gave him a playful whack on the head.

"Well, I'm going. If Sydney doesn't come home for lunch, let yourself out. Don't forget to lock the door!" Francie grabbed her purse and left the apartment. 

Will walked over to the large window in the living room. He watched, puzzled, as his friend hopped into the passenger side of a blue convertible. She gave the driver a peck on the cheek and the couple sped off.

* * *

The door opened and there was her mom, thin and pale in the white room. Irina's skin looked sickly under the florescent lights. She was smiling.

"Hello, Sydney."

"Mother." Her voice had a hint of hostility. "How do you find the time to be both 'The Man' _and_ 'The Cat'? Must be awfully tough."

"Kat? I am not Kat. I was merely filling in. Of course, you already know that." Irina became concerned. "Are you happy, darling? How is your life? How is... your Mr. Vaughn?"

Sydney's eyes narrowed. "Leave him out of this. I'm not here to catch up. The CIA wants information. Where is your headquarters? And who is 'The Cat'?"

"My dear, I have missed you so much," the older woman said, ignoring her questions. "This life, it is not good enough for you. You deserve a kind husband and little children. Quit this job and come with me. I will give you everything you have ever desired."

"Mom, if you really cared about me, you wouldn't have left us in the first place," Sydney pointed out. "Now, _tell me_."

"Alright, we shall do it your way. Your answers will be in Finland, though I cannot say where. Do bring a sweater, darling. I will not have you catch a virus."

"Scandinavia, huh? Thanks." She turned to leave.

"Will I see you again?" Her mother sounded almost vulnerable.

"I don't know. I really don't," Sydney answered quietly, without turning around.

* * *

"--and all I know is that it's in Finland."

"She cooperated?" Vaughn looked bewildered. Sydney's eyes darted around the warehouse nervously. The meeting seemed to be going well, both agents acted like it was business as usual, but her heart pounded wildly.

"Yeah, I was surprised too. Mom--I mean, Irina seemed lackluster. Defeated."

"Huh, that's strange. It doesn't fit her profile."

"What would the CIA know about m--Irina?"

"It's not exactly the Agency's profile. Your father met with me today." She paled. "Is there a problem?"

"What did he want?" Sydney asked, alarmed.

"Nothing. Jack just wanted to give me some information about her habits and behavior. Why do you sound like you just saw a ghost?"

"Oh, it's nobody--er, I have to go. Will and I... we were, uh, supposed to go out. Bye!" She left in a hurry, while Vaughn looked after her, perplexed.

* * *

She climbed the rusty metal stairs. They creaked despite her slight frame. Katrina pushed open a half-rotten door and revealed a high tech computer system. How she despised journeying into dilapidated buildings in order to communicate with her employer.

"Hello, Miss Hunt." A shadowy image appeared on the monitor.

"What's the deal, boss?" Her face and tone revealed nothing.

"You will continue with your mission, of course." 

Katrina raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Uh huh, and?"

"We may need you in Europe. Be prepared," said the distorted voice. 

"Look, I get to talk to Sark or we have no deal."

"I don't believe you are in any position to negotiate. Good bye, Miss Hunt." The screen went blank and she cursed under her breath. That bitch, Irina, seemed to control her life, even from a CIA holding cell. How the hell did she do it anyway?

* * *

Will observed with amusement as she stabbed at her salad. "Are we killing the evil tomatoes?"

Sydney looked up. "Huh? Oh, no. I'm--Work stuff." 

"Right... anyway, as I was saying, she just jumped in. Fran obviously knew the guy. Did she tell you she was dating?"

"No. That's weird, I thought she was still getting over Charlie. Wait, she did mention a man... something Jason. Kent, maybe? Oh, that's right, Kendall. Jason Kendall. I remember now. Francie was hiring him for the restaurant, I believe."

"I don't think they're just working together. She was all dressed up. You know those earrings she always wears on special occasions."

"Why are you so interested in this, Will?"

"Syd, I have a bad feeling about that guy." She gave him a look. "It's not jealousy, I swear. And I know I shouldn't be sticking my nose where it doesn't belong, especially after my last investigation, but I don't want her to get hurt."

"I know. After what happened with Charlie, I'm worried about Francie too. But we have to trust her judgment. Besides, if she wore those earrings, this guy must be someone special."

* * *

Jason Kendall sat at a table about thirty feet away from the two friends, sipping his coffee (black, no sugar) calmly. To anyone who passed by, it appeared that he was listening to a CD. Truth was, his Discman is actually a hearing device that enhanced voices. 

The man smiled. _We have to trust her judgment._ So Sydney Bristow thought he was "someone special"? That should call Will Tippin off. _Nothing_ would get in the way of this romance.

Nothing and nobody. He would make sure of that.

* * * * *

Author's Note: In the next chapter, the truth about Jason Kendall is revealed... sorta. Tyler and Katrina are met with not-so-pleasant surprises.

Questions, comments, suggestions, speculation, constructive criticism... I'll take what I can get. I really appreciate all the feedback! Keep the reviews coming please!

Shelly's back! Thank goodness, I was about to organize a search party. Gracias for reviewing "Life Is But A Dream" and returning my muse to me. She's a tricky little scamp! 

To clarify, Vaughn _was_ indeed snoozing through the most intense make-out session of his life. Unlikely, I know, but the poor boy was fatigued!

Also, thank you Jannah! I know you're really busy as well and I'm so glad you found the time to give me your opinions.


	10. Almost Poetic

****

Tangled Lies

by Tayce Skye

* * *

Rating: PG-13. 

Spoilers: All of Season 1 and maybe the first episode or two of Season 2 (based on info from spoiler sites).

Summary: Post ATY. Will be AU after Season 2 starts. My version of what might happen in (and after) Taipei. Last time on "Tangled Lies"... Jack speaks to Sydney about Vaughn, who still doesn't know the kiss was for real. Irina reveals that something's going on in Helsinki. Will and Syd talk about Francie's new relationship with Jason Kendall, not knowing he's listening too. Katrina has a little conversation with Irina.

Pairings: Francie/Jason mentioned. 

Distribution: Sure, but don't forget to email me first at teague1350@hotmail.com. I'd also appreciate a link.

Disclaimer: I own this story along with Katrina Hunt. _Alias_ is not mine. It belongs to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, etc. No copyright infringement was intended.

* * * * *

Katrina shook her head. "You are so wrong. How can you even say such a thing?"

"I can't believe you think that! Ignorance... complete ignorance!" Tyler Blumberg was obviously infuriated. 

She scowled at him. "When it comes to cheesecake, New York style rocks. Plain is unbeatable. Fruit just makes it all syrupy." They both reached for the glazed Krispy Kreme donut. 

These last couple of weeks had been divine. The two teens had become great friends, managing to forget about that unfortunate incident at the ice cream shop. 

He showed her all about the joys of "hanging out". They went to the beach, saw some movies, ate at the best fast food joints, and had numerous discussions ranging from food to music to novels. It was... cool.

Cackling as she snatched the last pastry, Katrina waved it in front of his face. Tyler just rolled his eyes. 

"So we on for tomorrow? The Stanley Kubrick movie marathon? I got the Oreo's, Doritos, and popcorn." He still couldn't believe the girl's amazing appetite.

"Awesome. Your apartment at noon? Crap, I gotta feed Donovan. Mike's gonna be so pissed if he finds his dog biting on the couch again. I'll call you later!" She gave him a lopsided grin and got up from the park bench, brushing off the crumbs. They had been feeding the ducks, and themselves.

The nineteen-year-old watched longingly as Katrina walked away. Just because she had a boyfriend didn't mean he couldn't obsess over every aspect of her. He silently berated himself for being so foolish. Tyler could have any chick he wanted. Just not her.

* * *

"Hey Trin, how's my li'l lady?"

"I wouldn't know." Michael's friend laughed and returned his focus onto the Sports Illustrated he was perusing. 

Eric hung out at the apartment sometimes, still recovering from an injury neither agent could tell Katrina about. The CIA knew that she was aware of their occupations, but didn't want them to disclose any detailed information. The teen picked up on that fact and never asked them to elaborate.

"Did you feed Donovan?"

"Yup. He had his teeth buried in a cushion when I got here. Mike's gonna chew us both out."

Katrina smiled. "Nuh uh, he likes me better! Nice pun, by the way. So, you stayin' for my famous lasagna?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, sweet pea." The front door opened and a weary Michael Vaughn entered the room.

"Eric, did you steal my mail again? Of all people, you should know it's a federal offense," he joked and snatched the magazine away from his pal. He turned to Katrina.

"I'm going out of town for a day or two next week. Business trip. Will you be okay alone? No wild parties or inviting strange boys over?"

"I'll try to restrain myself," she answered dryly, while expertly hiding the concern and disappointment that attempted to surface.

Michael mussed up her already-disheveled hair. "That's my girl! What's for dinner?"

* * *

Sydney tapped her nails impatiently. Vaughn was late. He was really late! Not that she was in a huge hurry to see him or his green eyes, dimpled grin, wrinkled--

__

Damn it! That wasn't good. She hadn't been able to get him out of her head since--

His hand tapped on her shoulder, startling her. "Ah!"

He chuckled. "Sorry, Syd." This earned him a vehement glare.

"Vaughn. You scared me!" 

"Well, maybe this will make up for it. We've pinpointed the location to Helsinki. Not sure where exactly, though. We should know in time for the mission."

She frowned. That wasn't the reaction he had been hoping for. "We don't even know what's in Helsinki. It could be a trap!"

"We'll be prepared. Don't worry, Sydney. I hate to say it, but I think your--Irina is actually helping us."

* * *

**__**

Will:

I couldn't help it. My stupid curiosity got hold of me.

Am I relieved? That I found it in time? So I can save her?

No. It's so hard. It'd be easier if I had never...

Sydney told me to drop it. Since when do I ever listen to her? So I contacted some sources. They dug up his past. And I'm horrified.

Jason Kendall had been the prime suspect in the brutal murder of a Californian political leader ten years ago. The guy was mutilated beyond recognition. LA police couldn't gather enough evidence to put him away. 

He was connected to two other homicides from the mid-90's. Both involved disfigured bodies. I threw up about four times.

Francie's new boyfriend could very well be a killer. I have to get her away from him.

* * *

"I'm telling you, Syd. Will you at least check it out? You know, use your sources?" he asked in an urgent, but hushed tone.

"You are insane! Stop worrying about this okay? I promise I'll look into it, but you have to promise that you'll stop." In reality, she was terrified. What if Will was right? Francie could be in danger.

Sydney left the worried ex-reporter and called Vaughn, telling him to bring his laptop to the warehouse.

"What's this about?" he asked as she searched for clues in the government database.

"There! Jason Kendall. Oh my god. I think Will was right!" There was no response. "Vaughn?"

"How in the world do you know Agent Kendall?"

* * *

Tyler lounged on his ratty old chair, waiting for Katrina to arrive. It was 12:04 already. _Dude, cool it. It's been less than four minutes._

There was a knock at the door and he suddenly bounded off the Lazy Boy.

"Coming!" Stopping short of the door to compose himself, Tyler opened it with a flourish. To his confusion, a blond man stood outside. The stranger was pointing a gun at his chest.

* * *

Katrina entered the apartment out of breath. "Sorry Ty--" She stopped abruptly. 

The familiar, but sickening scent reached her nose. 

Blood. Gore. Tyler.

He lay on the stained carpet in grotesque condition. Limbs unnaturally posed. A hand shot up to her mouth, trying to prevent herself from retching. Eyes wide and frightened, she slowly sank down to his side.

"No."

There was no pulse. He stared back at her. Blank, emotionless. Without life. 

"_No_."

It couldn't be. Not Tyler. She glanced around the room frantically. The coffee table was completely covered with snacks. He got all that food for her. Poor, sweet, thoughtful Tyler.

Tears came. Katrina wasn't aware of them until she felt a splatter on her hand. How she despised those salty droplets. It was weakness.

How could she even think about that when her best--no, only friend was...

"No!"

A scrap of white against the red. Clutched in his hand. Trembling, she removed it. 

Paper. Words.

__

Dearest Katrina,

So sorry it had to end this way. Irina gives her regards. She trusts the Helsinki assignment won't be a problem. Unless, you wish the same onto Mr. Vaughn.

Betrayal hurts, right? Like a blow to the stomach, it's unexpected. As if someone is skewering your insides. It's almost poetic, in a cruel way.

He loves--loved you, Trin. Did you see that? Selfish bitch. That's all you'll ever be. This wouldn't have happened if you had kept your lips to yourself.

Yes, I was watching. Our employer wasn't happy either. We can't risk it. The best solution is containment. Execution.

I'm sure he didn't suffer as he gurgled his last breath. I'm sure he was thinking of you the whole time. I was. His death at my hand. Almost poetic.

Yours,

David Andrew Sark

Her throat closed. 

"No." It came out as a choke.

It couldn't be. Not him. Not David. Not Tyler. No, no, no, no no no no nonononono...

Please, no. 

* * * * *

Author's Note: In the next chapter we rewind and see the events from Sark's point of view. And Katrina has an unexpected encounter with the last person she wants to see.

Questions, comments, suggestions, speculation, constructive criticism... I'll take what I can get. I really appreciate all the feedback! To Fanatic... three reviews in a row! Holy cow jeez mama, I'm glad you liked it. Hopefully, I didn't keep you waiting too long for this chapter.

I am forever indebted to my fabulous beta reader, Shelly, for putting up with my muse. 

And many thanks to Jannah. The title, "Almost Poetic" was her idea. All hail the Lurker.


	11. Globus Hystericus

****

Tangled Lies

by Tayce Skye

* * *

Rating: PG-13.

Spoilers: All of Season 1 and maybe the first episode or two of Season 2 (based on info from spoiler sites).

Summary: Post ATY. Will be AU after Season 2 starts. My version of what might happen in (and after) Taipei. Last time on "Tangled Lies"... Will discovers that Jason Kendall, Francie's new beau, is suspected of three horrendous murders. Sydney is alerted and she finds out from Vaughn that Jason works for the CIA. Katrina discovers Tyler dead and a note signed by David Sark.

Pairings: Sark/Katrina kinda. Francie/Jason mentioned.

Distribution: Sure, but don't forget to email me first at teague1350@hotmail.com. I'd also appreciate a link.

Disclaimer: I own this story along with Katrina Hunt. _Alias_ is not mine. It belongs to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, etc. No copyright infringement was intended.

* * * * *

**__**

David:

When I saw Katrina consorting with the... other, I was--I'm not quite sure what exactly. Like someone ripped my innards away. Like my organs collapsed. Globus Hystericus. It's the medical name for that unpleasant sensation, your throat closing... unable to breathe... choking the life out of you.

Maybe our employer had been correct after all. She softened me.

Irina wasn't pleased. I suppose being held by the CIA isn't exactly a dream. But this--this was betrayal, we both knew. Something needed to be done.

Alexander protested, of course. Because that's his little girl.

Her broken vows obscure my judgement, her sly hand squeezes my heart. She swore loyalty to me. And to Irina. Traded us both in for a brand new life with that precious Michael Vaughn and the... other.

I volunteered. Just another assassination, I told myself. No other reason motivated me, none at all. The little voice hissing smugly at the back of my mind said otherwise. Everything I did was about her. Irina knew this, but didn't say a word.

It's not extremely difficult, you just go... pull the trigger... and leave. Cold, impersonal, perfect. Not much can go wrong, especially if the target is a mere civilian.

I arrive at the man's apartment. It's not particularly posh. The unsightly paint peeling, the welcome mat faded. Crushed cigarette butts litter the stairwell. Katrina's, perhaps.

Knock-knock on the wooden door. Crooked numbers, dull and rusted. 

I hear a thud, heavy footfalls. A pause. Inhale... exhale. The doorknob jiggles. I raise my weapon.

He is standing before me. The gun is less than three feet away from his heart.

Hesitation. 

Eyebrows raised. Not from fear... disbelief maybe. "I think you got the wrong house, man. Martin lives down the hall. He's on vacation though."

What the f--

Lowering the gun, I manage to mumble a few sentences. "Er, yes. Sorry to have bothered you. Good day." He closes the door. I just stand there. Immobilized.

Not quite sure what happened next. Just remember gripping the steering wheel and staring blankly at the little green pine tree that hung around the rearview mirror, it's fresh fragrance overwhelming my senses. I'm a bit shaken. 

This... has never happened to me before. Even my first kill went smoothly. Unlike Katrina, I never had any qualms about termination or collateral damage. Never had doubts or worries. Until now. 

It's all her fault. 

I reach into my pocket then, and froze. The letter. I had written it in a burst of passion. 

Gone.

* * *

She cradled his head in her lap. Tyler's unruly, light brown hair was sticky with blood. It seeped through her jeans. Not that she cared. 

Michael would never know--he didn't do the laundry and apparently never got the concept of separating lights and darks. Katrina smiled wistfully as an image of him (holding up a lacy bra, expression priceless) danced in her head. 

No one would be home for hours. She could stay here, watching the warmth slip from her friend's still corpse. Protect it from the wolves. 

But this was LA. No wild animals here, only lethal lovers.

David. He did this. Bitterness invaded her taste buds again, but she forced it down. 

It suddenly hit her. Being found at a crime scene, it wouldn't exactly help matters. So she took the note and gently lowered Tyler onto the carpet. Katrina brushed her lips against his... only to quickly pull away. The kiss was what killed him.

She could taste blood. Metallic and nauseating. Fleeing the apartment, she covered the stain on her pants with a sweatshirt, wiping her face on its sleeve. It had been his, borrowed when they went to the carnival and it started to rain.

Wandering through the streets, in a daze. Cars honked but she paid no heed. Water splashed on her arm. Without warning, Katrina snapped to attention... her head jerking violently. Had she been crying again? No, eyes were dry. 

The sky... it had become overcast, somber. The world was dark gray and it was only afternoon. Ah, precipitation. That's what this liquid was.

A flash of lightning, nature's wrath. The heavens began to pour... releasing their sorrows. Realization came. All this aimless walking had led to an alley. A gloved hand grabbed her.

Responding instinctively, she sprung into action. Within seconds, the attacker was pinned against the building wall.

"Katrina." 

The girl released her hold.

"David?"

An arm shot out and she collided with crumbling brick. The figure approaches.

"Shhh. I've got something to say." He kisses her softly. She doesn't recoil. A talented tongue parts her lips, slipping in. She isn't resisting. Hovering around her ear, he whispers. "I want you. I need you. I love you." She just whimpers. Strong hands roam her body, rubbing and raiding. She moans.

Something inside of Katrina finally kicks in. David is falling, falling, falling to the ground. Backing away slowly and then it's running, running, running home.

* * *

Michael was flabbergasted, to say the least.

"How can you know Agent Kendall? He's undercover. I mean, this is deep stuff!"

"Will saw him with Francie. Vaughn, why was he the prime suspect in these cases?"

Squinting at the glowing screen over her shoulder, he tilted his head slightly. "Huh. I have no idea."

"So he's okay? Not a bad guy?" she questioned anxiously.

"Jason's a good friend of mine. I haven't seen him in forever but--"

"Great! I mean, I'm just glad Francie isn't dating an axe murderer. Thanks." Michael, remembering Noah, felt his ears flame and hoped she couldn't tell under the dim light.

"Yeah. No problem." After making sure she'd left, he took the just-vacated seat. Frowning, he continued her search on 'Kendall, Jason'. 

* * *

**__**

Katrina:

Took a shower after getting back. But I still feel dirty. Like the slushy snow on the streets of New York or the smog that threatens to suffocate San Francisco.

He touched me. And I let him. In fact, I wanted it.

How could my body betray me? And Michael? And Tyler? 

Those same fingers David slithered under my shirt. Those same fingers pulled the trigger. Those same fingers did the unimaginable, causing both pleasure and pain...

I slaughtered my best friend and I love his executioner. Where did that come from? Love. On the breath of a madman. He says it like it's true. So why did he do this? What kind of love is that?

My mind is filled with a million voices. Clashing, clouding. 

It was your fault. Tyler loved you. Past tense 'cause he's dead. Brutally annihilated. Gone forever. His heart isn't pumping. Blood, everywhere. Eyes, gazing eternally at his Judas.

David loves you. He's a cold-blooded--oh, wait. You are too. What if you love him back? You love the things he can do. That makes you even worse. Whore.

You hate him and Irina. And even Tyler for getting involved in your life. But most of all, yourself. Stupid girl. Love is death. The most Golden of The Rules. Deception is unavoidable.

I should have known. I can't let it happen again. 

Because of Michael. My guardian who tries so hard to get away from work, wanting to spend time with me. The man who looks at me proudly, threatening to burst with brotherly affection. As if I was his own. Full of endearment, trust, devotion... love...

While I riffle through his things, giving them to a heartless woman that he loathes. No more. 

I have to protect Michael. Whatever it takes. I won't let him turn out like Tyler.

* * *

David lay against the pavement, in a similar position to the man he supposedly killed. Putrid stenches filled his nostrils. There was a disgusting clump of... rubbish inches away from him. 

__

Beeep.

He slowly gets on his feet and heads for the black BMW that stopped near the dumpster. Drops of water hit the leather. 

"That was quite foolish of you, David."

"Irina. What is it?"

The woman on the television screen smirked. "I had someone finish your job for you."

"No," he groaned weakly. "She thinks it was me."

"That is irrelevant. The deed is done and that is that." Pursing her lips, his employer's face faded into darkness.

* * *

"Hey, Larry? Yeah, yeah, it's Vaughn. Can you pull a file for me?" Michael asked into a cell phone while walking between two crates. "Agent Kendall. Jason Kendall. Uh huh. I can wait."

He sat down. The laptop's white glow illuminated his features. A half dozen creases appeared.

"What do you mean? Okay. Alright then, just look for anything that relates to the Timothy Price, Cliff Stiller, and--That's exactly it. Hmm. What's that? Really! Are you sure? The Agency wouldn't--No kidding!" 

A look of astonishment was appeared on Michael's face.

"Right, just get back to me as soon as possible. Mmm, I know I owe you big time. Thank you very much for this, Larry. Yes, I'll see you at the basketball game. Seven o' clock. Yep. Later."

He hung up. The wrinkles on his forehead tripled.

* * * * *

Author's Note: In the next chapter, we find that Tyler is related to someone Katrina knows. And the true murderer is revealed.

Questions, comments, suggestions, speculation, constructive criticism... I'll take what I can get. I really appreciate all the feedback! 

I am forever indebted to my awesome beta reader, Shelly, who suggested the name of this chapter. 

And many thanks to Jannah for bringing those imperative details to my attention. 


	12. Better Safe Than Sorry

****

Tangled Lies

by Tayce Skye

* * *

Rating: PG

Spoilers: All of Season 1 and maybe the first episode or two of Season 2 (based on info from spoiler sites).

Summary: Post ATY. Will be AU after Season 2 starts. My version of what might happen in (and after) Taipei. Last time on "Tangled Lies"... Sark didn't kill Tyler, Irina framed him. Katrina is confused about her feelings for Sark, not knowing he is innocent (well, in this case). She is willing to protect Vaughn at any cost. Vaughn knows Jason Kendall, but isn't aware of his past. He calls in a favor and finds out something, while Sydney is in the dark.

Pairings: Jason/Francie, but not much.

Distribution: Sure, but don't forget to email me first at teague1350@hotmail.com. I'd also appreciate a link.

Disclaimer: I own this story along with Katrina Hunt. _Alias_ is not mine. It belongs to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, etc. No copyright infringement was intended.

* * * * *

"God, Mike. I can't believe he's gone," Eric said. He sat on the couch, head buried in his hands. "My nephew, Joe's kid. The roommate found him. It was--How could somebody do a thing like that? The sick son-of-a-bitch. I mean, Tyler was only in college. Had his whole damn life ahead of him and then..."

Michael looked at him grimly and then glanced down at the pile of gruesome crime scene photos. There was nothing he could do for the obvious pain Eric was in. Except, maybe, justice. 

"I think I know who it was."

"What?"

"Jason Kendall."

"_What_?"

"It--the wounds were consistent with the ones on the bodies of Timothy Price, Cliff Stiller, and Oliver Zane. Jason Kendall was the main suspect in all of those cases. I'm sorry, Eric."

His best friend's face turned to stone, causing Michael to shiver involuntarily. 

"I'll kill that bastard."

* * *

The funeral. Closed casket. Katrina didn't want to go. It was her fault. And Tyler was Eric's nephew. But Michael wouldn't understand if she refused to attend.

She had to meet them. The parents, the friends, the family. Mournful sobs. Eulogies interrupted by grief. She had to look at the faces.

Joseph Blumberg, the older brother of Eric. Refused to bear the name of their deadbeat dad, so he borrowed his mother's. Met and married a beautiful, compassionate redhead in Ireland. Had always treated his son like he wished _his_ father had treated him.

Fair and freckled Fiona with haunting emerald eyes. Held her husband's hand and watched as the only child they had was lowered into the ground. A modest black dress, spotted with tears. Dusty rose lips gasped for air.

Tyler's grandma, Grace. Strong and silent. She had endured poverty, abusive stepfathers, infidelity, and single parenthood. Now the boy that was always pampered and adored is gone. And her soul went with him.

Eric. Standing with a hand on his mom's shoulder. Reassuringly squeezing as Grace finally broke down, starting to shake. But he was void of emotion. 

Morose and off to the side was Michael. He had met Tyler only a couple times, but they got along. His presence comforted both Eric and Katrina, though not much. 

She would not let her true nature show. A sympathetic expression masked the anguish that invaded her very being. Nobody could see her uneasiness, hurt, guilt, distress...

And no one saw the lonely tear... slowly rolling down her cheek.

* * *

**__**

Katrina:

I've got no right to be here. This tragedy was because of my selfishness. Had Tyler not known me, he would still be alive. 

His kin would not be accepting condolences and comfort food. 

Eric would not be plotting revenge.

Joe and Fiona would not feel as though a part of them has been removed.

Grace would not have fallen apart.

I would not be crying.

Did this happen to all of my victims? The little girl? Were the people in her life destroyed by my actions, like Tyler's were? 

No, I mustn't think of this. Irina will want me to kill more people, innocent or otherwise. I have to sacrifice them, for Michael.

But I'm sorry.

* * *

"Irina." She regarded the screen scornfully.

An impassive face battled static. "Miss Hunt. How is that young man... Tyler was it?"

Katrina felt rage surging through her bloodstream. It screamed for justice. "Let's get one thing straight, Derevko. I won't be your snoop anymore. Missions, I'll do. It was the original deal and I'm not backing out. However, I'd advise you to keep away from me and mine in the future. Leave Michael Vaughn alone and I won't--"

A mocking laugh filled the room, bouncing off the deteriorating wallpaper.

"What's so funny, boss?"

"You cannot do a thing, Miss Hunt. Not. A. Thing." The audio crackled. "I will humor you, agree to this ludicrous request. You cannot say I am unfair. Now get going. It is time for your flight. Bring a sweater to Helsinki, Katrina. I will not have my employee dying of pneumonia, though that would be very interesting to observe."

And she was gone. 

* * *

"Promise me, Eric." Michael tried to block the black-clad man's exit.

"Sure, whatever. Get out of the way."

"Stop it! Tell me you won't go after him by yourself. Don't--"

Eric's look was hostile. "Mike. I'm warning you, get out of the way."

"And what? You're still weak. That bullet in Barcelona... At least wait until after I return from Helsinki. Devlin's investigating, gathering more evidence. They still don't have a motive--"

"It was because of _me!_ Tyler is dead because of me!"

"_What?_" Michael's eyes were two wide circles of jade. His partner sank into a nearby chair, trembling.

"There--there was an op, couple years back, in Prague. I was handling a--a rookie. She refused to follow orders and got caught in the crossfire. Kendall... had been secretly involved with the girl. He attended the memorial service. Wouldn't meet my eye, even though I tried... tried so frickin' hard to save her."

Eric took in a pained breath, obviously still believing the incident was his fault. "The Agency sent him to Russia on long-term assignment the next week. Guess he's back."

"Oh." That was all Michael could manage as he absorbed the information. 

"Mike, I hope you don't mind that I'm gonna have to gun down one of our former poker buddies."

"My god, are you still gonna try to do this?" He looked at Eric in disbelief.

The voice that answered was cold and unforgiving. "Prague was because of me, but this is because of him. I can't let Kendall get away with this."

"Are you even listening to yourself? Don't you think I know how you feel? The bitch that killed my dad is just a mile away! Walk in, shoot her, walk out. Easy as that, I'd get my vengeance. But I'm not going to do it. _'Cause it's wrong. _And it'll eat at you forever. If you kill him, the rest of your life will be spent in prison and it _still_ won't bring Tyler back. Think about what he would have wanted. What--"

"I'm pretty damn sure that he didn't want to be dead!"

"For Christ's sake... _stop!_ What about your mother? And Joe? And Fiona? They already lost Tyler and if you do this, they'll lose you too. Please... just--just wait 'til I get back and we'll take him down. Together." 

Finally, Eric agreed. After sitting in silence for a few seconds, he spoke up again. "What are you going to tell Sydney?"

Michael grimaced. "Nothing right now. Devlin thinks it'll 'affect her performance' if she finds out that her best friend's boyfriend is a psycho. I'm going to tell her everything as soon as we complete our Helsinki mission."

* * *

"Francie, who's that cute guy in the driveway?" Sydney asked. She didn't like her roommate dating a government man (or anybody who was ever suspected of murder, for that matter) but Vaughn had reassured her that Jason Kendall was okay. And she trusted Vaughn with her life. 

"What? Where? Hey! You tricked me!" 

"Sorry! Will saw you with a guy and--Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's... stupid, really. I just--" she shifted uncomfortably. "After Charlie, I felt like... a fool. Then Jason came along. I was trying not to get too attached, in case it didn't last. You and Will are like my family and I guess... I thought that if I didn't introduce him to you, it wouldn't hurt as bad if--when he left."

"Sweetie!"

"Sydney, I'm _really_ sorry. I should have told you."

"Oh, don't apologize. Just remember that you can come to me for _anything_. So," she smiled conspiratorially. "Is he any good?" Francie broke out into a huge grin and started to babble excitedly.

"--and then Jason was like, 'May I have this dance, Milady?' I could have _died!_ He is absolutely irresistible. Brings me roses on every date, gives money to the homeless, thinks my cooking is astounding, _and_... is an _incredible_ kisser!" 

"I'm so happy for you!" The two shared a hug. "I've got to go. My flight leaves in an hour. Say 'Hi' to Jason for me! And I'm gonna meet him when I get back, right?"

"No problem-o! Hey, where's the bank sending you this time?"

"Chicago."

* * *

Sydney blew on her hands, trying to keep warm. Finland was colder than usual this year.

"Vaughn, I'm at the warehouse." 

Her handler was in a van, examining a printout. "Okay Syd, you want to go through the gray door by the two silver cars. The access codes are 3-6-5-8-2-6-4-9."

Working quickly, she punched in the numbers and the door opened with a hissing noise. "I'm in."

"Follow the orange lights until you get to the bathroom. The last mirror on the left has a medicine cabinet. There is a blue bottle filled with sleeping pills on the middle shelf." Sydney poked around, finally locating a glass container with white labels.

"Break the bottle and you should find a couple of keys. Take the small, gold one," Vaughn instructed. She put the container on the bathroom's white tiles and brought her heavy boot down on it. Shattering, pink pills flew everywhere and two metallic clanks were heard. Leaning down, Sydney picked up a golden key.

"Got it. What's next?"

"There should be a janitor's closet to the right of the bathroom. Break down the door." There was a loud bang. "Now, find a red toolbox with black handles. Use the key to open it and inside there should be an orange button. That button will open the entrance of Irina's offices."

Silence.

"Hello? Sydney? _Hello_?"

* * * * *

Author's Note: Next... secrets are revealed and lives are intertwined. Well, even more so than they already are.

Questions, comments, suggestions, speculation, constructive criticism... I'll take what I can get. I really appreciate all the feedback! 

I am forever indebted to my fabulous beta reader, Shelly.

And many thanks to Jannah. I'm extremely grateful for your opinions.


	13. Her Again

****

Tangled Lies

by Tayce Skye

* * *

Rating: PG-ish.

Spoilers: All of Season 1 and maybe the first episode or two of Season 2 (based on info from spoiler sites).

Summary: Post ATY. Will be AU after Season 2 starts. My version of what might happen in (and after) Taipei. Last time on "Tangled Lies"... Katrina's secret is out. She explains herself to Michael, but Sydney was listening too. 

Pairings: None really.

Distribution: Sure, but don't forget to email me first at teague1350@hotmail.com. I'd also appreciate a link.

Disclaimer: I own this story along with Katrina Hunt, Lillian Li, and Matthew Hunt/Matthieu Delorme. _Alias_ is not mine. It belongs to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, etc. No copyright infringement was intended.

* * * * *

It was her again. Five-foot-three. Probably less than one hundred pounds. The Cat.

Sydney was caught, hand in the toolbox. The small figure approached in a blur of black and knocked her radio away. It clattered uselessly against the hard, concrete walls, smashing into small pieces. Leaping to her feet, Sydney blocked a kick aimed at her head.

The Cat's attack was mechanical, almost daring the agent to strike. It was a game. Sydney grinned and feigned a roundhouse. Her fist shot out, attempting to land on The Cat's veiled jaw. To Sydney's surprise, her opponent had been expecting it and used her momentum against her. In one dizzying move, Syd was flat on her back. The gray ceiling seemed to swirl.

A half-hidden face came into focus. Green eyes regarded her carefully. The Cat's head swiveled, suddenly, to the corridor. Footsteps. It sounded like thousands of them.

The CIA's backup team! Sydney remembered, finally, about Vaughn telling her that this time there would be Plan B. First, she would infiltrate the compound, planting bugs and gathering intel. If her presence was detected, the backup team would enter and initiate a takeover. And in they came.

Vaughn led the group and stopped short when he saw Sydney on the floor.

"Syd! Are you alright?" She looked around. The Cat had escaped.

"Yeah. Let's go."

* * *

Sydney ran a finger over the glass desk, eyes fixated on a photo... of her, at age 7. So this was Irina's office. It was stark and sterile. The wooden picture frame acted as the only splash of warmth. This was where Mommy worked.

Her airway tightened, to her disgust. Still, Sydney couldn't help wondering. _Did Mom really care about me? Or did she put this here on purpose, knowing I would see it? Does she think about me every day, like I think about her? Is she even capable of loving me?_

She shook her head, trying to rid her brain of these desperate deliberations. It would be best to take things one at a time.

Vaughn and the other agents had scoured the place. It had been abandoned, apparently. Khasinau had known that they were coming. The file cabinets were empty and the computers had been wiped of data. Irina's office was the last room. Sydney wanted to search it herself.

She opened a drawer, gripping its cold, metal handle tightly. Several paperclips and a stapler. Another compartment revealed a box of tissues, some Advil, and three cough drops. Apparently, Irina had a cold the last time she was here. _Guess even The Man wasn't invincible to viruses_, she mused.

Sydney sighed, looking around the room warily. There was absolutely nothing here. Then, she saw it. Wedged between two classic novels was a thick file. It came out with a quick jerk. The label read "KAT". Inside was a large collection of surveillance photographs.

* * *

Michael ran a hand through his hair. Perhaps Sydney was having better luck. The team hadn't recovered a single item of significance. Irina probably tipped her employees off, leading the CIA on a wild goose chase. 

"Vaughn!" It was Syd's voice, urgently calling from her mother's office. He immediately found her, visibly relaxing when she appeared to be fine. That woman almost gave him a heart attack.

"I found this file. Look, I think it's The Cat!"

He examined the black and white pictures. A young woman, back towards the camera, aiming her gun at two bulky guards. The same girl, engaged in a passionate liplock with an unidentified man. Caressing the man's face... Sark's face.

"So she really was involved with that son of a bitch," Michael observed. Sydney smirked.

"There's more. It's like fuzzy porn."

Bare bodies. Blurry faces. Intertwined limbs. Katrina Hunt, head thrown back in ecstasy.

"No!"

* * *

She collapsed onto the bed, inhaling the scent of her shampoo on the pillow. Fighting Sydney was always fun. Katrina just hoped that Michael's agent wasn't too badly hurt this time.

The trips to and from Helsinki were uneventful, no government flunkies breathing down her neck. It was almost too easy. Not that it mattered now. She was home after all, and Michael wouldn't suspect a thing. The guilt gnawing away at her stomach would pass soon enough. Maybe it was hunger. Yes, a sandwich would be nice.

Katrina padded into the kitchen, kneading her tired muscles. She was too young for the aching that followed these trips. Then again, most people never got this amount of excitement, danger, and ass kicking, no matter how long they lived. Time for large dose of painkillers.

Settling on the couch with the sandwich and some milk, along with a certain wrinkly canine, she turned on the television. Homer Simpson's face filled the screen. That's when the door burst open. Michael came storming in.

"The business trip didn't go well, I take it." Her cousin glared. "Mike, calm down. Wanna explain?"

"Explain this." A thick manila folder slapped the coffee table. It's contents slid out. Katrina paled, recognizing the various positions that the photos caught her in. She then proceeded to throw up all over Michael's new suit.

* * *

He was jolted out of his blinding rage by the... well, it's best not to go into details. Ten minutes later, Michael was still scrubbing viciously at the ruined pants, attacking them with the anger that he had intended to aim at Katrina. By now, the blue material was giving way and he stuffed his clothing into a trash bag. 

After cleaning up, he went to check on Katrina. She had retreated, mortified, after the vomiting incident. Michael wasn't been thinking clearly and hadn't bother to chase after her. Now, he was looking into an empty bedroom, not completely astonished by her departure.

Did he just release a teen transgressor onto an unsuspecting world?

* * *

**__**

Katrina:

It's over.

I tried so hard to protect him from this. From my other life. And now everything has come back to bite me on the ass. He had **pictures** _for Christ's sake. Of me. And David._

Oh, god. David.

One thing at a time. One thing at a time.

I ran. I ran away like I always did. Away from Michael, in this case. And I ended up at Paulie's Pizza Palace. 

We came here once a week. Michael and I. Sometimes Eric joined us. The aromas that drifted from the kitchen were intoxicating. Baking bread, sweet herbs, tangy sauce, simmering meat. We would come to laugh, to stuff our faces. To just enjoy each other's company.

Paulie Jr. spotted me right away. I had become one of the regulars and he knew to sit me at the booth directly in front of the emergency exit. He didn't even ask were Mike was, didn't need to know what beverage I wanted. Sometimes I sat here just to think.

Michael found me, fifteen minutes after I had gone. He didn't say a word, just hauled me out of there and into his car. I knew where we were headed. To the warehouse. 

It was logical, the only safe place we could talk. Of course, he didn't know that I knew it even existed.

My whole existence is over. And Mike's too, if anyone else finds out.

Then it finally hits me, what I have to do. For probably the first time in my life, it's absolutely imperative that I tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but. Deceit came easily. This... this would be much, much harder. 

* * *

They got to the warehouse in record time. Michael swept the place for bugs, trying to control the feelings of betrayal that threatened to overtake him.

"Start talking, Trin. That is your name, right?"

Katrina cringed. "Mike--"

"Just tell me the truth! Are you even related to me?"

"Would you believe it if I said yes? I haven't been completely honest, Michael, but you have to trust me now. I never wanted to hurt you!"

"Bull."

"Then why the hell don't you just shoot me?" Tears streaked her face. His heart constricted.

"I... don't know."

"Either listen to what I have to say or kill me. What's it going to be?"

Michael's hand went automatically to the gun. He lifted it slowly and fired off the rounds... 

**__**

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Katrina's eyes widened in shock, her lips a rose-red circle. The girl's small frame jerked at each crack.

****

Bang. Bang. Bang.

...at a group of wooden crates. Bullets gone, Michael dropped his weapon on the unforgiving cement.

"That wasn't very smart," she said, dazed. His mouth pressed together in a thin line before parting.

"I'm willing to listen."

* * *

**__**

Michael:

I had to. This was Uncle Matt's daughter. I had to give her one last chance.

And I almost wish I didn't.

Turns out, I don't know anything about Matt at all.

He worked for FTL. Katrina says that the organization tricked him, saying they were a covert division of CDECE, the French version of the CIA. I immediately thought of Sydney and SD-6's lies. 

Lillian Li, Katrina's mother, was a spy too. In fact, she was youngest sister of Quan Li. The assassinated leader of the now-defunct FTL. The one that Sark killed in broad daylight. Yeah, that's right. Katrina's little boyfriend murdered her uncle. 

Growing up, I wanted to be a pilot. Just like Uncle Matt. Except, he never actually flew planes. While my mother and I thought he was jetting off to Boston or Miami, he was actually stealing sensitive information from the United States. I guess I did end up like Uncle Matt anyway.

He disappeared without a trace, twenty years ago. And was reborn as Matthew Hunt. He did it to protect us. So we wouldn't be associated with him. It's terrifying, now that I think about it. FTL or some other agency could have killed us if Uncle Matt pissed them off. That's why he left. To protect Mom and me.

There's another thing that scares me. Matt and Lillian. They had a forbidden relationship. FTL found out and had them killed. If I follow in my uncle's footsteps, if I have an affair with a fellow agent, will I die too? And Sydney? His life almost mirrors mine. What if the consequences are the same?

I can't think about Syd right now. Back in Helsinki, I convinced her not to tell anyone about the pictures, but she probably told Jack. He knows about Katrina. He'll tell Devlin. 

This whole mess is because of my cousin. Uncle Matt's daughter. The Cat. Well, not The Cat. It's almost funny. See, Katrina never had a codename. Her employers called her "Kat" for short and some idiot from SD-6 heard wrong. Yeah, it's almost funny.

Except, it's not. 

* * *

Michael massaged his temples. "So, how exactly did you get involved in espionage?"

"Same as my mom. I was learning about the spy game before I could even walk. It's the Li family business. Except, I didn't train with FTL for very long. K-Directorate staged a takeover back in 1990. They held many agents hostage and decided to take me along for the ride. You know Anna Espinosa?" Katrina asked.

"All too well."

"That's my former mentor. I was at K-Directorate for ten years. When I was fifteen, Irina recruited me and--" she stopped abruptly, glancing around the warehouse. Katrina smiled, pupils focused on the tower of boxes to her left.

"You can come out now, Sydney."

* * * * *

Author's Note: I apologize for the long... long... long wait. The next chapter may not be up for a while. My schedule is extremely hectic at the moment. Sorry everyone!

Questions, comments, suggestions, speculation, constructive criticism... I'll take what I can get. I really appreciate all the feedback! 

Shelly and Jannah, thank you for being so patient! And for your wonderful beta-ing. 

Also, check out Shelly's Alias fic, "Lost", under her pen name, Songbird. I'm so darn proud! Would've plugged it sooner, but _someone_ forgot to tell me that it existed. I hadn't read any Alias fan fiction for a while and then, voila! My beta has a story out and it's bloody brilliant.


End file.
